


when hunk buys a really nice car

by blackberry_peachx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Actually A 4+1, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barista Keith (Voltron), Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Car Sex, Christmas, Date Nights, Domestic, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Eventual Christmas Themes, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Fluff, Frottage, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Humor, Late Autumn Themes, M/M, Minor Lance/Allura, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Road Head, Semi-Public Sex, Service Top Hunk (Voltron), Sugar Daddy Hunk (Voltron), Top Hunk (Voltron), Vague Sugar Daddy Vibes, alcohol use, almost getting caught, attempted car sex, bad choices, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-01-30 19:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12659883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberry_peachx/pseuds/blackberry_peachx
Summary: Hunk was meticulously and unnervingly good at keeping secrets. Especially this one secret that Keith relentlessly nagged him over and over about, ever since they’ve met, after finding out about Keith’s mutual love and appreciation for cars. Hunk, much to Keith’s endless annoyance, enjoyed teasing him the most minor of details. The shithead.And today, Hunk told him it was finished. Finally.--Or, the 5+1 of Hunk and Keith trying to get it on in a really sexy car until they finally do.





	1. -5

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :>
> 
> So this is very self-indulgent, it has gotten away from me. Also, I know nothing about cars, so, take that with a grain of salt. I tried, though. 
> 
> I plan on posting this weekly every Friday until a few days before Christmas, because reasons. I will also add tags that correspond to the chapter posted to keep the details secret until then, but let me know if anything else needs to be tagged and I'll happily do so! The rating will also go up. 
> 
> [ The Car. ](https://www.barrett-jackson.com/Events/Event/Details/1969-SHELBY-GT500-FASTBACK-138282) The details are pretty much exactly the same, except the back windshield doesn't have the slats. 
> 
> This is all authored and beta'd by me, so all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Today is the day. 

Ever since they’ve started dating, nearly three years ago now, Hunk has always talked about his ‘pet project’ restoring an old car. He would arrive at dates covered in grime and dust from his uncle’s car shop but shiningly happy, often mentioned his stresses about the mechanics, leave Keith’s apartment abruptly when a mysterious ‘part’ arrived, or about electronics or finishes that weren’t working right to factory standard. He also enlightened small details about the successes, such as the “perfect paint color,” or something or other. And the whole time, without fail, never mentioned too much. 

It drove Keith insane. 

Hunk was meticulously and unnervingly good at keeping secrets. Especially this one secret that Keith relentlessly nagged him over and over about, ever since they’ve met, after finding out about Keith’s mutual love and appreciation for cars. Hunk, much to Keith’s endless annoyance, enjoyed teasing him the most minor of details. The shithead. 

And today, Hunk told him it was finished. Finally. 

Hunk picks Keith up in his ‘every day’ vehicle, meaning his Land Rover SUV--one that Keith still cannot fathom even owning even though he’s currently dating its owner--to bring him to his uncle’s car shop that Keith was never allowed to even know the location of except in vague details. Hunk, supposedly, didn’t want Keith to go wandering while he was on his occasional shift as a Lyft driver to peek at his project. Understandable, because Keith absolutely had fantasies of doing so, but it was aggravating because he needed to know the details, Hunk! 

Keith nearly leaps into the front passenger seat as soon as Hunk pulled up to his apartment, slamming the door and yelling, “Go, go, go! Take me! Let’s go, let’s go!” like he had just committed a heist and Hunk was his escape driver. It made him laugh incredulously, though, and shake his head. 

“Alright, we’re going!” Hunk responds with the same enthusiasm, putting his SUV into reverse and pulling out of the parking space, looking over all blind spots with a grin. “I’m not breaking the speed limit, though, except by five, because tailgaters.” 

Keith groans dramatically, pushing his head against the headrest. “Hunk! You gotta get there, like, yesterday! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? Do you?” 

“Seatbelt,” Hunk interjects, side-eyeing Keith still seatbelt-less, turning on his signal to get onto the road. 

Keith buckles himself in but doesn’t stop his tirade. “You’ve teased and taunted me about this for years. Years! And you know--”

“I do,” Hunk says with a sly grin, the nerve of him. 

Keith reaches over and pushes his shoulder, Hunk giggling. “You know! You asshole,” he says but there’s no bite, just a wide smile and excitement brimming over in his face. “So can you tell me more now? Like what’s the model? The year? Please tell me it’s at least 60s or 70s, I would probably break up with you if you’ve been remodeling something from the 80s--but if it’s a Ferrari then I might just cry. Is it a Ferrari? Oh my god, Hunk if you fucking bought--” 

“It’s not a Ferrari,” Hunk slips in, entirely too amused for his own good. 

Keith still moans at the very thought of a Ferrari, only a little sexual, but turns on Hunk again, his knees pressing against the center console. “If it’s not a Ferrari, is it European? American? Come on, Hunk, you gotta tell me, I have to know!” 

“You’re going to find out, Keith, I promise,” Hunk bursts out laughing, patting his knees comfortingly and squeezing them in his one big hand, glancing at him before looking back onto the road. He’s such a good driver, sometimes, it astounds Keith, who’s got a lead foot and tires to burn. “I’m literally taking you there, right now, as we speak.” 

As he pulls up to stop at a red light, he puts an elbow on the console and leans in close to Keith’s already near face, narrowing his eyes deviously as a shit-eating smirk curls at his mouth, and says in the most conspiratorial tone, “You’re gonna lose your mind.” 

Keith groans even more dramatically. 

Hunk’s uncle’s car shop wasn’t a far drive, the place that fostered Hunk’s love of car mechanics and engineering and also his first job, a fairly popular place and one well-loved. Keith had met his uncle on several occasions but he could barely spare him a hello before pushing Hunk forward through the lobby toward the repair shop where he was already heading, his uncle laughing knowingly behind them. Hunk takes Keith’s hand and leads him through the actual customer cars, careful to avoid the big power tools and instruments and employees. 

There’s a separate garage behind the shop and Hunk takes out a ring of keys to unlock the huge door, grinning smugly over his shoulder at Keith the whole time as he’s nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. After what feels like several thousand years, Hunk reaches down and pulls up on the handle, throwing up the door with gusto and flourish, sticking his hands out and jazzing them, “Here she is!” 

Keith’s eyes take a second to adjust to the darkness of the garage interior, even with the bright overcast light behind them, but he can glimpse a shape, some shimmer… then Hunk walks inside briskly and flicks on the overhead lights, still with that flair, and Keith? 

He gasps. Loudly. 

Inside, sitting pretty and shiny like she just came from a factory, is a 1969 Shelby GT500, all sleek lines and broad wheels and _sex_. It’s gorgeous, restored to the very number, a deep glittering maroon with a slick white line down the flanks, wheels slightly turned outward like it might come to life and bowl Keith clean off his feet because it feels like it already has. He’s never seen something so immaculate, so pristine, so… he doesn’t even have the words. 

Keith’s hands fly to his cheeks and drag down them as he stumbles forward, mouth agape as he tears his eyes over the vehicle, walking around it like he can’t believe it exists as Hunk stands and watches near the headlights proudly. He stays quiet but there’s the ever-present grin on his face, only a bit humbled at Keith’s gawking. 

“Oh, man… oh, geez, Hunk… Hunk, babe…,” Keith mumbles weakly, tentatively reaching out a hand to touch the roof like it might burn him, eyes quite literally watering. “It’s… it’s beautiful, what the fuck… how in the hell…,” he says faintly, peering in through the driver’s window to look at the dashboard, so 60s and retro with the wood paneling but Hunk had managed to make it a little more modern with an Aux attachment but the radio still looks original. And the wheels…

“I barely managed to get a bid on it,” Hunk says though he’s not entirely sure Keith can hear him, dragging a finger along the silver band around the headlights, and tries valiantly to pretend that Keith’s stunned flocking isn’t doing marvelous things to his heart. “I think I scared the other bidders at the auction… I really wanted it. It was a block of metal, rusting and could barely run when I drove it here. Funny thing, though…,” he raises a brow, looking at Keith nearly pressing his face on the wheel to get a look at the shock towers. 

“What? What’s funny about this? There’s nothing funny! The only thing funny is that this is a fuckin’ drag racer! For you!” Keith spews, clearly missing Hunk’s wistful expression for a second before he sits back on his heels. “Sorry, I’m just… holy shit, dude… this is insane… can’t believe you didn’t tell me...” 

Hunk hums and leans against the frame of the car, hardly minding Keith’s enthusiastic outburst. “I actually won the bid on this the day I asked you out. It gave me enough courage to finally do it after months of harassing you at the café, so…,” he shrugs, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious as he huffs out a laugh, keeping his eyes lowered from where Keith is now staring at him instead of the car. “Trust me, it was hard to keep it a secret.” 

Keith is silent for a few moments, gaping at Hunk with wide eyes and a faint tinge to his cheekbones, half-gloved fingers curling against his knees before looking back to the polished silver rims absently. Hunk watches curiously as Keith hauls himself up and strides with purpose around the hood of the car, only to reach up and pull on Hunk’s coat collar to yank him down for a passionate and hard kiss, pressing himself against his front, grasping Hunk’s coat with his other hand. 

Hunk makes a noise of surprise before kissing him back, warmth flooding through him at the suddenness and Keith’s unremitting intensity, his own half-gloved hands coming up to hold Keith’s hips, nudge him against the headlights so he plops right down onto the hood. He internally frets a little about dentage, making sure Keith only sits on the strongest parts of the metal. 

“Hunk… I don’t even know what to say,” Keith breathes against his lips, Hunk feeling his fingers rub into the soft weather-resistant material of his coat as he usually does when the words don’t come to him so easily. Keith seems to gather his thoughts as his eyes flick over his face, his own wide and bright and Hunk is endlessly lost in them. “I’m amazed, and proud of you, and stupefied and I really wanna go for a ride. I want you to drive this thing.” 

Hunk’s mouth curls into a smile that takes up his whole face, heart skipping and thudding against his chest. “You’re actually proud?” he asks, almost shyly, and Keith scoffs. 

“Of course I am. Like I said, I’m literally--” he makes a motion near his head like explosions are going off with the accompanying sounds, making Hunk gently laugh because he knows that all too well. “I can’t believe you restored this whole thing, Hunk, it looks incredible and sexy and I totally believe it took you three years to finish it and you’re incredible and amazing a-and incredible…! Wow,” he looks over his shoulder to the rest of the car, his hand dropping to gently stroke the maroon hood reverently and carefully.

“Thanks,” Hunk says softly after a long moment. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried, so he pointedly jingles his keys, making Keith whip his head back around to face him. “Wanna go for a ride, babe-y?” He says in a ridiculous over-done suave accent from literally nowhere. 

Keith jumps off the hood and swings around to the passenger side so fast Hunk couldn’t even blink before Keith is pleading with him to unlock the door. Once inside, Keith damn near cries at the soft white leather of the low seats, hands gingerly skimming the entirety of the dashboard, and when Hunk turns the keys, the engine sparking and rumbling to life, loud and echoing in the garage, Keith presses his face into his hands. 

“I said I wouldn’t cry!” he wails, laughing through his watery tears, and Hunk takes pity on him to lean over and kiss his face, squish his cheeks to kiss his puckered lips. 

“You’re such a dork,” Hunk says fondly, ruffles his hair, and Keith pushes his face away though it’s half-hearted. “Good thing I know stick shift.” 

“You know stick? Oh, god, Hunk, I love you so much,” Keith says firmly, sniffing away the last of his abrupt tears, buckling himself in without needing to be asked. “You suddenly just got ten times more sexy.” 

“And I wasn’t before?” Hunk teases as he puts the car into gear, pulling out of the garage, making Keith grin from ear to ear.

Hunk just drives, no particular destination in mind. Keith rambles on and on enthusiastically about the car specs, asks Hunk questions about the engine and part origins, and Hunk tells him just as exuberantly, the both of them geeking out a little over such a pristine model and Hunk’s sheer luck. When Hunk merges onto the freeway, the engine picking up in revolution when he pushes the clutch and shifts gears, the muffler makes such a perfect burst of power Keith melts into his seat.

He wasn’t lying when he said Hunk is a zillion times more sexy, driving and shifting gears like he could do it in his sleep, something about everything in regards to his dream car making that fact more apparent to him. Beside the obvious that Hunk is a big guy, squeezing and fitting perfectly into such a smaller muscle car compared to his usual oversized SUV like it was meant for him, the knowledge that Hunk spent literal _years_ working on this thing and restoring it to factory standard, spending mass amounts of money on his passion (even though it wouldn’t dent his wallet much), even bought it when they first started dating… Keith’s brain is pulling him in several different directions. One of which being the warmth and flush of his cheeks from just watching Hunk talk about car specs, his excitement and pure knowledge on cars doing something to him, a familiar spark of arousal nudging between his hips, blood rushing due south. The car itself is sex on wheels, the added talking is absurdly erotic while listening to the gear shift and the engine rumble and shudder, vibrating through Keith’s seat, all through his back and and ass and even down to his boots on the floor. 

Keith takes several deep breaths, his head spinning with how irrationally turned on he is right now, briefly watching the early fall scenery and the changing colors pass by them though he’s not registering it while Hunk falls quiet, hugely enjoying taking out his car for the first time. Keith loves watching how he smiles, giddy and elated as he drives in practiced motions, his heart doing wild things in his chest because Hunk is so stupidly gorgeous in this very moment. He can’t stop himself from reaching over and putting his hand on the inside of his thigh next to his knee in a silent gesture, pressing his fingers into his jeans, gently squeezing. 

“Hunk, you should pull over,” Keith says, stunned momentarily by how deep his voice has gotten, loud in the silence of the vehicle since neither wanted to turn on the radio yet. 

“What? Why, are you okay?” Hunk asks, glancing over with some worry, and Keith is so endeared by that ever-present concern of his. Then, Hunk looks at his eyes, how dark and hooded they are, leaning close against the curve of the seat and the center console, his hand on his knee… and slowly connects the dots. Just how Keith’s knees are pressed together like that, that certain glimmer in his gaze he’s seen before, and from what? The car? The driving? Whatever it is, it gets Hunk’s heart racing, too, wondering just how in the hell Keith is turned on by this but he’s in complete agreement. 

Hunk moves his knee so it’s closer to Keith, raising a brow, his cheeks flushing. “Alright,” he says, and looks back at Keith before skimming his whereabouts, the city one he knows well, thinking of places to go… 

It takes a maximum of five minutes for Hunk to pull over into a quiet neighborhood, the houses far enough apart with plenty of trees and shrubs around the street to give them a semblance of privacy, but in all actuality, Hunk knows they’re in a nice car in an unknown neighborhood, so he hopes they can make it quick. And knowing Keith, it probably will be. The suddenness and new situation has his heart hammering, his hands shaking in excited anticipation, interest already stirring in his dick as Keith drags his hand over him, pressing through the zipper of his jeans. 

He throws the car into park but leaves the engine idling, and Keith immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs over the console to sit on Hunk’s lap just as he pushes his seat back to give him room, pulling Keith flush to him with his hands on his ass. Keith kisses him hard, his knees knocking against the door and the console but he doesn’t seem bothered, rolling into Hunk and pressing his hard on to his stomach, which… Hunk is mildly impressed he didn’t notice earlier, and also vastly pleased that Keith is so… Keith. _He’s hard already?_ He thinks, opening his mouth and welcoming Keith’s tongue inside, groaning low in his chest when Keith’s swiveling hips gives him much needed friction on his own straining erection. 

“God, you’re so hot, Hunk, so good with your hands and shit…,” Keith mumbles against his lips, digging his fingers into his hair and accidentally pulling at his headband, rolling and rolling against him. Hunk’s hands hold his hips, feeling him move beneath his sweatshirt and leather jacket, inching his fingers toward his front to his belt. 

“Yeah? Like me working on cars? Driving you around?” He whispers back, his own voice gritty and thick, cupping his hand over him and humming appreciatively as Keith uses it to thrust against, unzipping his fly to dip his hand over his boxers. 

“Fuck yeah, I really really do,” he nips at Hunk’s bottom lip, ducking his head down to suckle at his neck just under the curve of his jaw, pulling at the collar of his coat to reach lower as Hunk tilts his head back against the headrest. “Wanna ride you, see how the axles hold up.” 

Hunk smiles lopsidedly, shivering at Keith’s expert lips. “They will, promise. Just some squeaking, maybe.” 

“Fine by me,” Keith replies with some amusement, sighing hard when Hunk’s fingers squeeze him. 

Then, to Hunk’s immediate shrieking, there’s a loud bang on the passenger window, and Hunk raises his hands away from Keith and holds them up thinking its a freakin’ cop knocking on the window, Keith pulling himself away from his neck in a rush. They look over to the window and see it’s a just a woman, huffing and puffing against the glass and fogging it up. A white woman who looks vividly angry, shouting at them, and both Hunk and Keith are too incoherent to know exactly what she’s saying through the glass, but Keith doesn’t hesitate to glare at her. 

“What the fuck! Go away!” he shouts, raising a finger. 

“What?!” the woman shouts back, muffled, as she makes shooing motions, and only now does Hunk see two other women and a handful of kids standing behind her. All of them are staring in shock at the scene, at the both of them all over each other where they were macking and he was _just about to whip Keith’s dick out_. The sheer horror that crosses his mind is phenomenal, paling and shrinking down into the seat as Keith continues arguing with the woman, climbing off of Hunk to roll the window down and make it even worse. 

“We’re going now! Bye! Watch out, bye, we’re leaving! Thanks!” Hunk pulls Keith’s head back inside from where he stuck it out the window by his jacket collar, quickly putting the car into drive and hurdling a few yards down the street, the women standing in objectified indignation while the kids clearly laugh behind them. 

Hunk buckles his seat belt one-handedly and Keith rights himself in the seat, still fuming. “What the hell! She just banged on the window! She kicked your wheel! Didn’t you see that? What the fuck, she could have dented the rims! I can’t believe--” 

“Keith!” Hunk shouts as Keith sticks both hands out the window, fingers up and proud, shouting another ‘fuck you!’, obviously careless to the kids still around. “Close the window! I swear to--she’s gonna call the cops!” 

“She better not call the cops,” Keith mutters heatedly though he pulls his hands inside and cranks the window back up. 

“That was so messed up, oh my god, you were in my lap! My hand was on your dick! I can’t believe--did that really happen? Holy shit!” Hunk rambles with clear agitation, hands jerking on the gear shift shakily as he whips out of the neighborhood, eyes wide as plates. “And you just--you can’t fight with people with your fly undone, Keith! Keith…” 

Keith’s already laughing when Hunk glances over, hand covering his eyes as he slumps in the seat, shaking his head. “Some lady almost just caught us,” he says in disbelief, hand dropping to his thigh. “In a neighborhood, with kids. Why’d you bring us here? A _neighborhood_?” 

“It looked safe! Secluded! Don’t blame me, you were rubbing my dick! I wasn’t thinking straight!” Hunk defends hotly but his resolve is already withering, chuckles pushing up through his throat. “You were whispering sexy things in my ear, okay? Jesus Christ on a bike, can’t believe that just happened…” 

Keith, still chuckling, buckles himself in, but he leans over and kisses Hunk’s cheek, patting his shoulder as he heaves a long sigh. “Well, _that_ was an attempt in breaking this thing in,” he says, resting his arm on the door after zipping himself back up. 

Hunk bursts out an incredulous laugh, mouth gaping. “As if! This is never happening again unless you want me to literally die. Or get us both arrested for public indecency. Or something.” 

Keith covers his mouth to hide his smarmy grin but Hunk can still see the gears turning in his head when he looks over at him, not sure if he quite likes it, so he just shoves Keith’s shoulder and shakes his head. They’re never doing this again.


	2. -4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Halloween party, and attempt #2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for _very_ vague mention of vomiting.

A few weeks later, after Hunk has driven all their friends around town doing errands, dropping them off at their dorms or apartments, having to bat Lance away from smearing his face against the windshield as he hugs it, pulling Pidge out from the underneath the hood, flushing as Shiro openly gawked at it, taking Allura on wild spins through downtown, and of course, giving Keith preferential treatment to the passenger seat. Which forces Lance and Pidge to crowd into the small barely-there back seats (pointedly not interfering when they all heatedly argue about it)--Hunk doesn’t drive it for awhile. He keeps it in the smaller garage of his little townhouse and uses his SUV, better suited to the early snows gathering on the roads and the slick ice that covers them. Every time Keith comes over, though, he takes a few minutes to go into the garage and stare lovingly at it as if it was a work of art at the MoMA, and Hunk looks around the doorframe smiling softly with complete and utter endearment. Keith is ridiculous and he’s his. 

But, Hunk takes it out to go to Allura’s Halloween party, and Hunk allows Keith to drive it this time, clutching the door grasp and swallowing down his screaming when Keith takes particularly hard turns or speeds up on the freeway. He still babys this car like the prized gem it is, and though Keith fully respects the car like he does, he’s just a bit… intense about it. 

“Slow down, Keith! There’s like a ton of squad cars out tonight, it’s Halloween!” Hunk complains hotly from the passenger seat, nervously glancing over at Keith grinning, hand clutching the wheel as the other rests on the stick shift, changing lanes without using the signal. Hunk’s gonna die, he’s convinced. 

“It’s okay, this thing’s faster than them, anyway,” Keith rationalizes, but lets the speed drop to soothe Hunk’s worries, changing gears without having to listen too much to the engine. “This is incredible to drive, though, it’s so easy! It’s just… it’s just…,” he can’t exactly place it but Hunk knows what he means. “It drives so well! And it feels… right? Like--it sounds so good. This is a great car, Hunk, the throttle is perfect…,” he rants a little more, and Hunk relaxes, smiling as he listens. 

Looking over at him, Keith dressed in his half of their Halloween costume, wearing a light grey hoodie, his usual dark jeans and boots, gloves, and with paper towels pinned to his sweatshirt with ‘paper towel’ written poorly on them in blue marker, Hunk’s heart does funny things in his chest. Keith looks ludicrous, but he looks so comfortable at the same time, relaxed behind the wheel and ranting with the hand he uses to for the stick shift, his other wrist resting on the top of the wide steering wheel. He looks so inexplicably and stunningly handsome that he has no right looking with paper towels pinned to him. Hunk’s little niggling idea that’s been sitting at the back of his mind for weeks now, ever since seeing Keith’s first reaction to the maroon Shelby, starts poking at him. He pushes it aside for later. 

“You know how to get there, right? You missed the exit,” Hunk points out, only a bit smugly, interrupting Keith’s rambling. Keith’s brows furrow and he mutters a quiet ‘shit’ before whipping back in front of cars to the far right lane, making Hunk holler and grip the door grasp again before he speeds off the freeway. 

Keith, paper toweled-up, is the product part for the Brawny man, which Hunk sports amazingly well; dark red and black flannel, suspenders, with blue jeans and dusty brown boots. Their costume gets plenty of laughs from Allura’s friends and his own, Allura technically being his superior at the environmental engineering firm they work at but it’s as if the unspoken boundary doesn’t exist. She hugs him enthusiastically when she finds them inside, pushes his favorite craft beer bottles into his hands and hands off the same to Keith, her wild, feathery, flyaway hair getting all in his face, and it’s only when she pulls back does he realize how similar her costume looks to Lance’s, whom he saw earlier briefly chatting up some people among the spider webs and spooky purple lights.

His suspicions are confirmed when later, after everyone has had booze and gotten in lots of dancing, the both of them are indeed wearing similar 80s-esque costumes, spattered in fake blood and torn in some places. But ‘it’s not planned at all, we swear!’ they say through their liquor, standing suspiciously close to each other. Hunk just smiles and knocks beer bottles with Keith, the both of them having conspired for weeks. Keith drags Hunk by the hand through the artificial fog of Allura’s excellent party decorating expertise to go find their other friends. 

They find Shiro engrossed in a game of beer pong, who’s supposed to be a zombie, his prosthetic left behind for the added effect, and his make-up applied by Keith hours beforehand though it’s done surprisingly well, lasting through the sweatiness that’s consumed the back part of the house. Matt is dressed in a Halloween Consignment store Gandalf costume, beard and all, Shiro’s partner in their game, while Pidge cheers them on against their frat bro opponents in her Jyn Erso get-up (“Seriously, how’d they get here?” she had whispered to Keith and Hunk, sniggering and clapping when Shiro landed a cup). Hunk and Keith play against Shiro and Matt for a game when they win, crushing the both of them even though they’re all taking shots of hard liquor and mixed drinks, too, amidst the loud bass of the music and Halloween decorations as more people filter in. 

Hunk is separated from Keith when Lance hauls him off to help hold him for a keg stand and Keith drunkenly entertains a scheme of Pidge’s to weasel out Allura’s special tequila hidden somewhere in the house. Keith is distracted on several occasions when he catches his boyfriend across the room laughing boisterously with his friends and colleagues, sporting that flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, those goddamn suspenders… Keith’s seen them once before and he absolutely salivated. Even though they’re kinda old-timey, with the buttons holding them secure to his jeans’ waistband, they fit him so well, show off his shoulders and the breadth and strength of them. Keith drunkenly waves at him to try and get his attention but Pidge just takes his wrist and spins him around to lead him down another expansive hallway before he can. 

Allura, somehow, seems to find them at every turn, barring and locking doors and shoving them back down hallways and out of rooms, Lance not far behind to assist though Keith tries thwarting him every time. Lance throws an arm around Keith’s shoulders and steers him out into the living room, complaining loudly about the holiday decorations going up in a few days at their Starbucks. 

“Like, seriously, am I right? It’s Halloween today! And they’re going up in like… three days…” Lance burps, swirling whatever drink concoction is in his red solo cup. “There’s still so much fall left!” 

“Lance, I get it,” Keith says firmly, pushing Lance’s arm off his shoulder though he swipes two passing red jell-o shots off a tray and hands one to his equally shitfaced coworker. “Holidays blow,” he says to which Lance cheers to, dipping his tongue into the shallow cup to scoop the boozy jell-o out. Keith pauses before he does the same, however, finding his own statement too harsh and not quite accurate. “At least they used to,” he mutters instead, and knocks the jell-o back. 

He feels Lance’s eyes on him even before he scrunches the cup in his fist and tosses it into the nearest trash bin, narrowing his eyes at him though he’s sure the effect of his glare is lessened by the swirling alcohol in his system, but it doesn’t diminish the flushing of his cheeks. “What?” he snaps when Lance keeps staring, watching his eyes going watery or more glazed and a huge stupid grin spreads on his face. 

“Awww, Keith! Buddy!” Then Lance is throwing his arms around him and nearly toppling them over as he wails into his paper-toweled shoulder, the towel luckily soaking up any tears or alcohol that drips onto him. “I can’t believe how soft you are, you sweet bastard! Hunk has really been so good to you. My best friend, in this whole entire universe, has made you love holidays, hasn’t he?” Lance exclaims, then pulls back to jostle Keith’s shoulders. 

He grimaces in front of Lance but internally he’s absolutely right, and his heart melts a little just thinking about it, probably unhelped by the jell-o shots and beer and whiskey he drank. The last few years, Hunk has taken Keith to see his family a few hours out of town, his family not nearly as big as Lance’s but welcoming and full of warm and friendly characters. Being the youngest of three children, Hunk has plenty of nephews and nieces, as well as uncles and aunts and cousins to go around, so they were daunting at first. They weren’t swayed by Keith’s nervous and quiet demeanor the first few gatherings spent together, however, and instead put plates of food in front of him for ‘Thanksgiving’ (Hunk’s family being largely Indigenous Polynesian, they don’t necessarily celebrate it that way--mostly for football and food), gave him candy and champagne for New Years and stockings full of goodies for Christmas. Hunk’s mothers, Darlene and Larissa, even bought him a watch last year, and Hunk’s older sister got him the comfiest sweater known to man, along with his nieces and nephews drawing him pictures, giving him cookies.... And he still wears the watch, has kept all the pictures. Being welcomed into his family so easily still makes his stomach gooey. 

“Shut up, Lance,” Keith grumbles but there’s no threat behind it, and Lance seems to interpret this as acceptance, making him hug him again. Lance is always over-affectionate when he’s drunk, and even though they butt heads--a lot--Keith has grown used to it. Lance garbles more loud, happy nonsense into his ear and Keith pats his arm before Lance lets him go and turns him around, pushes him through the crowd of people toward the other side of the room. 

Keith tosses out surprised apologies to people Lance nearly makes him bowl over before giving him a look over his shoulder. “I can walk myself!” he says over the loud music, but Lance doesn’t let up until Keith’s face is shoved into a warm body. 

Blinking, he realizes the body is familiar, and seeing the flannel, Keith puts a hand on Hunk’s chest and looks up at him in mild shock, Hunk’s hand moving to the small of his back to stabilize them both as Lance nearly shoved them backwards. In Lance’s explanation when Keith reaches out to punch his shoulder, all he says is, “Hunk’s been looking for you all night! I brought you to your man, don’t punch me!” Then he punches Keith back and skitters away laughing before Keith can retaliate. 

Hunk laughs as he watches the two of them, holding up his beer bottle out of the way, but when Lance is gone, Keith takes a small step back and looks up at him, just a touch breathlessly. Hunk is nearly half a head taller than him, twice his width but burly, soft and kind. In his haze, after spending half the night trying to catch his attention, Keith finds he had missed him. Hunk, wearing somebody’s sheepswool aviator hat he didn’t have before, looks more like a mountaineering lumberjack than the Brawny man, and given his skillset and job, it’s pretty fitting. Hunk smiles goofily as Keith observes him, his hand pressing against the paper towels still miraculously clinging to his back, and takes a sip of his beer. 

“Well, hello there,” Hunk slurs in a low voice just for them, smacking his lips. Keith snorts unexpectedly and laughs, wrapping his hand around one of the suspenders. 

“Hello,” he says smoothly, pressing up against Hunk’s front, stepping between his boots. “Who’ve you been lookin’ for all night? I might have seen him.” 

Hunk chuckles and shrugs, leaning up against the black and orange tinseled wall behind him and pulling Keith closer. “Just some weird guy with paper towels stuck all over him. Looks like he could kick some ass and then clean it up.” 

After a moment, they both burst out laughing, and Keith reaches up to push the hat over Hunk’s eyes, leaning up to kiss him through his cute giggling. Hunk kisses him back enthusiastically, fingers digging through Keith’s sweatshirt and pushing the hat up with the beer bottle lip. He pulls back with a gentle smack of their lips and glances around, always one to be wary about making out in public even when they’re tipsy, but no one’s paying attention, dancing, drinking or talking with other people in costumes and masks, so he leans down again and slides his hand into Keith’s back pocket. Keith hums against his lips, wraps his other hand around the other suspender and pulls himself flush to Hunk, adjusting so their thighs are interlocked. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Hunk asks against his lips , words mushing together only a little, circling his arm around Keith’s shoulder, the bottle pressing into his back. His suggestion sends a thrill down Keith’s spine, not to mention the husky way he says it. He not-so-subtly presses both thigh and hips down into him, feeling like he might topple over from the woozy-ness in his head if it wasn’t for Hunk helping to hold him up… in those strong arms of his… 

“Yeah, I do,” he grins, biting his kiss-wet bottom lip. “But, Allura locked all the rooms because me and Pidge were looking for her tequila stash. Didn’t find it,” he says, and pulls Hunk off the wall with his grip on his suspenders, then takes his hand. “I know where to go, though.” 

“We’re not actually leaving, right?” Hunk asks, setting his empty bottle on a side table as he follows Keith, holding his sweaty hand tight. “There’s no way either of us are driving--” he pauses to belch loudly, “right now.” He pats his pockets for his keys, knowing instinctively where Keith is leading him.

“No way, big man,” Keith says over his shoulder as he yanks open the front door. 

It’s cold outside and the body of Hunk’s car is absolutely freezing when Keith pushes him against it, making him yelp before kissing him greedily and sloppily, Hunk struggling a little to unlock it manually with the key. After dropping the keys once, Hunk finally manages to get the door open, just as eager and impatient to fold Keith over the dashboard if not for the marginal warmth the interior would bring. 

Finally the both of them climb inside… but navigating through the small cabin was harder than expected when both of them were quite hammered. Hunk sat in the passenger seat first and Keith climbed in his lap for heavy grinding, but Hunk insisted on a different position, trying to knock back the seat, but his elbow hit the door hard, and Keith fell across the center console, his boot getting caught against the seat belt buckle and cup holder. 

“Hunk! Move your leg!” Keith complains, luckily catching himself before his face smashes the door. 

“Augh--okay!” Hunk says, rubbing his elbow, and hoists himself up to put a knee in the seat but conveniently forgot about the low ceiling, knocking his head hard on the barely-there padding. “Ow! Shit!” 

“Are you okay? Fuck--” Keith grip slips on the seat as he tries pulling himself up, scrabbling around for the lever to shove the seat back, but ends up getting his hand caught and snagging his glove on some metal somewhere. His thigh hits the steering wheel hard as he rights himself, shouting and accidentally kicking Hunk’s bicep with his released boot.  
“Sorry!” 

“Ouch, babe!” Hunk whines, rubbing both head and arm, pushing his hat off, his face all bent up before Keith gets to his knees and reaches over to kiss him hard in apology. “Here, let's try the backseats.” 

The backseats are the epitome of bucket seats, narrow and dipped in in the middle, but Keith climbs back there, also hitting his head on the ceiling, and Hunk has the audacity to laugh. “I’m sorry, just, you looked funny,” he explains through his giggling and Keith gives him a half-hearted glare before yanking on one of his suspenders. 

“Get back here and kiss it better,” he grumbles, pulling Hunk roughly forward between the front seats so his stomach lands on the hard center console, followed by a loud ‘oof!’ 

“Let me just--” Hunk grunts as he pats around for a hand hold, his boots kicking all over the dashboard and even honking the horn loudly, startling them both but prompting Keith to burst out laughing, falling limp against the hard back rest. “I’m squeezing! I’m too big! Agh--” he wheezes as he finally pulls himself forward only to smush his face into the seat, curling in on himself and thus shoving his ass right into Keith’s face. 

“Hunk! Hunk, oh my god,” Keith chortles, the impact punching the air out of him, but then Hunk also conveniently knees his dick. “Ow! Fuck! Hunk!” he hollers into his ass, screaming drunkenly as Hunk unknowingly puts weight on it to correct his position, rambling in worried apology. 

“I’m sorry, babe, I’m sorry, kiss it better?” He asks, wiggling his brows, but it would have been a lot smoother and less jerky if he wasn’t as inebriated as he is. Keith pants for breath, hand coming down to cup over his crotch, mouth curled downwards even as Hunk lifts his chin to pepper sloppy kisses over his cheeks. Hunk didn’t get him that bad he realizes, his knee avoiding most of the previous hardware, but he’ll milk Hunk’s doting for as long as he can each time. 

“Uh, yeah, if you didn’t break it,” Keith retorts, but glosses over his harsh tone by bringing up his other hand to cup it over the back of Hunk’s neck, turning his face to kiss him again and again. He leans back against the side of the car, stretching out his leg against the floor and putting the other boot on the seat, tilting Hunk down over him a little. 

Hunk presses a knee into the dip of one of the seats, his left hand coming up to hold onto the front passenger seat so he doesn’t fall flat on top of Keith, but he really couldn’t because the back was so cramped. Hovering horizontally now, though, does not agree with him suddenly. Not at all. He stops kissing Keith, taking a few deep breaths, holding them. “I know I just got back here. And... I want to do this, but.” 

After a moment, blearily blinking open his eyes, he asks, “Are you gonna be sick?” Keith knows that face, he’s seen it several times at amusement parks and on trains, when he’s hungover. Before Hunk can say anything, Keith fumbles around for the lever that’ll fold the passenger seat over. 

“Yup. Yes. Sorry, sorry,” Hunk scrambles forward, climbing over the back of the seat and shoving open the door to stick his head outside just in time. 

Keith is unable to do much, covered by Hunk’s legs and the side of the car, but he manages to push his limbs aside and sit up completely, his own head ringing from booze and from hitting it, mouth exceptionally dry and his own stomach roiling. Exhaustion presses behind his eyes as he rubs Hunk’s calf comfortingly, trying to gain his own sense of stability as the car spins around him. 

After a few minutes, Hunk pulls himself inside, slowly bringing the door closed with him, and falls back into the seat next to Keith with a heavy sigh, eyes closed and looking pale and weary. Keith leans against him and takes his hand, weaves their fingers together, and just breathes with him for awhile. 

“Well, we tried,” Hunk says, his voice gritty and thick, running his thumb over the square of open glove on the back of Keith’s hand. Together they laugh quietly, loud in the emptiness of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapters my favorite >u>
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


	3. -3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night? Something like it. And something stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite so far... and the longest >:)

Hunk texts Keith at work asking him if he’d like to “accompany” him to the record store, where Keith knows he’s been dying to pick up an EP for one of his favorite bands. Keith, having combined his record collection with Hunk’s ages ago, is eager to tag along. He pulls his phone out behind the counter and strategically hides it underneath the espresso machine to text Hunk back. 

**Keith [12:52 PM]** :  
_Hell yeah, shift’s done in eight minutes. You have thed ay off right?_

**Huuuuunk the BF [12:53 PM]** :  
_Sure do, babe. Pick u up in 15. OOH but can you get me a dark roast? <3_

**Keith [12:53 PM]** :  
_Will do 8) xox_

He smiles endearingly and tucks his phone in his back pocket, deciding to make a pour over for his boyfriend even though he hates making them for customers. They really do taste better than the brewed coffee (though that’s a secret). 

Lance, from where he’s sweeping the lobby, looks over at Keith grinding the beans and says over the headsets they’re wearing, “I know that look on your face, greaser. Is Hunk picking you up?” 

Keith rolls his eyes where Lance can’t see him, putting the grounds in the filter and getting the near-boiling water ready. Reluctantly, after feeling Lance’s piercing eyes staring at the back of his head, he clicks on the headset to respond, “No.” Clicks it off. 

“That’s a lie. You’re making a pour over for our dearest Hunk. What a sweetheart,” he coos sickly, still talking in Keith’s ear, sauntering behind the counter with the broom in hand and a smug look on his face. Keith rolls his eyes again, pouring the water over the grounds, the fresh dripping coffee slowly filling up the venti cup. When Lance comes in from the back after putting the broom away he’s still got that look on his face. 

“I will literally pour this water on you,” Keith states, side-eyeing him where Lance leans against the counter next to him. Lance is annoyingly unfazed, as always, by his threats. 

“You can, but then you gotta file an incident report and we both know you hate those, so,” he shrugs, crosses his arms, clearly wasting time from doing the actual tasks required of baristas. Keith, as the shift supervisor, is supposed to care, but he really, really doesn’t. Not right now when his shift’s almost done and the next is gonna come in. He doesn’t say anything to appease Lance. Like that’s ever stopped him. 

“What’s your sugar daddy gonna buy for you today? New shoes? Your--” Lance is cut off from Keith’s swift jab to his side, making him burst out laughing instead of a howl or another jibe. “You know it’s true!” 

Keith grumbles hotly, holding the metal canister with half of the hot water still inside near Lance’s exposed bicep. “Hunk is not my sugar daddy, I’ve told you,” he says in exasperation, pouring more water over the grounds. “You should know, he’s your best friend.” 

Lance chortles, taking a rag from the sanitizer bucket and wiping down counters, finally making himself useful. “Sure do, and I know he loves buying you shit. He’s got enough money from that engineering firm,” he says easily, practically whistling, and Keith pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He’s not talking with Lance about this for the seventh time. 

 

Once, a little while after Keith and Hunk started dating, Hunk bought him an expensive laptop for school. Keith had gone to Lance for advice. _Advice_! He regrets it outwardly now, but Lance did help him though he doesn’t think he’s ever told him. He had tried going to Shiro for help, but not having ever experienced his situation, his advice was too vague and half-formed for Keith’s liking. 

Initially, the thought of Hunk willfully and happily buying Keith a laptop freaked him out. Hard. Keith couldn’t fathom purchasing an Apple anything and here it was, free and without repercussion, for his use. He didn’t even ask, just complained to Hunk about the motors and fans busting on his old garbage laptop, and Hunk just… gave him one.

Keith was frightened about forcing it back onto him, knowing it would hurt his feelings like the first time he bought him something, which, back then, was a simple scarf, but a laptop? That would break him. And Keith really liked Hunk, didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, didn’t want to break his sweet, well-intentioned heart. So he asked Lance on what to do. 

Lance told him Hunk also bought him a laptop. Though his was not an Apple but still a very nice one at that, Lance was… actually very nice about it. Assured Keith that Hunk liked to make his friends happy, and that he had the funds to do so, that he thought he was very lucky and wanted to provide gifts. Lance even explained that Hunk jumped at opportunities to pay for meals because he knew his friends were sweltering under the shitty economy. 

“It’s like… a guilt point for him,” Lance explained coolly as they walked to Keith’s nearby apartment from work. “He shouldn’t feel that way, but he does. Just, all I ask is that if it makes you uncomfortable, tell him before he gets it in his head to keep doing it. He would… be very sad if you told him too late,” Lance says with a grimace, but he pats Keith’s shoulder and offers him a friendly smile before saying facetiously, “Or, you know, just give them all to me.”

After some thinking, Keith found that he wasn’t bothered by Hunk’s seemingly spontaneous gifts. Not opposed at all. They talked about it at length and Keith explained to him that he’s never had the luxury of extra money before, having grew up in the foster care system. It jostled him a little, that Hunk does, but that he doesn’t think of him any differently. Hunk had smiled, and pulled him in for a hug. 

“I know what it’s like to be broke, too,” he whispered into his neck, his hands warm on Keith’s back. “I just want to make it easier.” 

So, in short, Hunk is not _Keith’s_ sugar daddy, or any other weird term Lance wants to tease him with. It’s not official, Hunk still buys Keith things, helps him with his rent and phone bill and tuition, but not on everything. Like, he certainly didn’t buy Keith’s motorcycle, which is unfortunately in storage as snow continues to pile on the roads. And, he’s definitely not gonna buy that 80s synthwave record Keith’s been thinking about for weeks… 

 

Keith smirks, looking over his shoulder as the pour over brews, narrowing his eyes mischievously. “Why, are you jealous? I could tell you the things he’s bought for me,” he says with mild aloofness though his gaze is pointed. There are indeed _things_ Hunk has bought for Keith… for both their enjoyment, truthfully. Keith would only tell Lance through the façade of a lie, however, if only to see him gag. 

Lance looks at him for a long deciphering moment, then furrows his brows and lifts his hands, one holding the sanitizer towel. “Nope! Don’t need the details, thanks,” he says firmly, turning his back to Keith while he sniggers and finishes up Hunk’s coffee. 

Keith draws some espresso shots and squirts whipped cream over them for his own free drink, and even though Hunk’s is technically supposed to be paid for with his discount, Keith doesn’t give a shit. He does pay for the croissant as a last-second gesture for Hunk before he finally ducks out the front doors after his shift to run up to Hunk’s Shelby when he pulls into a parking space. 

They have an door unlock-relock match as Keith keeps pulling on the handle too soon, shivering in the snowy winds, and Hunk keeps yelling at him to wait but he doesn’t hear him until the fifth time. Finally, Keith hurls himself inside the blessedly warm car, careful about spilling the coffee everywhere, and Hunk greets him with a laugh. 

“Oh, heck yes!” he cheers when Keith hands him the warm croissant, leaning over to kiss his cheek and take the coffee from him with another smooch. Keith turns his face to catch the third one. 

“Wow,” Hunk says as he leans back, his eyes wide and sparkling when he looks at Keith, his grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

“What?” Keith asks, not as defensive as he used to be when Hunk gives him that mushy soft face, sipping from his tiny cup of espresso and whip cream, raising a curious brow. 

“Sap,” is all Hunk says, putting the coffee in the cupholder and taking a huge bite from the croissant until it pushes at his cheek. 

Keith blows a raspberry, bringing the fingers of his right hand to the vent on the dashboard to thaw them. “Me? Don’t even go there.” 

Hunk waves his croissant as an indicator, and Keith just smiles. 

Their favorite record store is across town near the university, white Christmas lights bedecking the city trees as the minuscule snowflakes blow around. Hunk plays his alternative indie rock playlists and Keith bops along as they drive, the both of them trading the drum beats and guitar strumming every song, singing warbled duets. Hunk parks on the street in a free space and walks around the side of the car to meet Keith when he steps out, slinging his arm around his shoulders to walk the short distance down the sidewalk to the store. Keith huddles into Hunk’s radiating warmth, slyly slipping his cold fingers underneath his coat and sweatshirt to his skin, making Hunk yelp. 

“I’m gonna get you real full-length leather gloves and make you wear them,” Hunk says with a mock-serious tone, pulling Keith tighter into his side and making him grin, his stomach swooping with a familiar joy. 

“You could only make me if they’re lined in fur,” Keith jokes with false haughtiness, his face giving him away. 

“Mink? Squirrel? Beaver?” Hunk offers in a series of unrelated British accents, and Keith snorts unattractively at the absurdity. “Name your price, good sir.” 

“Oh my god,” Keith laughs, nearly skipping along to keep up with Hunk’s wide strides.

Inside, Hunk is excited to see Matt working, since he’s part-time at the record store and part-time doing science research at the university, they don’t see him very often, the last being being the Halloween party just over two weeks ago. The two of them exchange a hug before asking each other about, what Keith aptly calls, “science-y jargon,” since he can’t understand half of it. Keith also greets Matt in kind, Matt physically leaning over the counter to hug him in the same gusto he showed Hunk, but after a few minutes Keith wanders through the store, subconsciously swaying to the indie music playing over the speakers. 

He browses through the boxes and boxes of old records, some dating back to the 30s, but also goes through the punk and rock genres, into the CD rows, the cassettes. There’s sellable merchandise hanging on the walls like T-shirts and mugs, some of which Keith already owns, but also movie and band posters, a TV playing some fighting robot show, and sparkling LED lights. Keith sniggers to himself at some of the CDs he finds, like the 300th or so “Now That’s What I Call Music” album with the worst possible song list on it, and he gawks at Christopher Lee’s heavy metal album about Charlemagne. 

There’s boatloads of crazy and interesting things to find here, but also more of what he actually likes, and he knows Hunk likes this shop for the same reasons, after many a conversation about their finds. Some of it also probably has to do with Matt’s knack of finding the unfindable. Several times, he and Hunk have had to ‘special order’ a record, which was basically asking for Matt to hunt it down on Craigslist or elsewhere, but he never failed. 

The music changes over the speaker to something mellow, lilting, and Keith hears Hunk coming up behind him, softly singing along. Keith flushes up to his ears as Hunk steps up behind him, reaching over his shoulder to sort through the row of records Keith was looking at, his low and gently vibrating voice sending a thrill down Keith’s spine to ooze and simmer in his stomach. He always did love Hunk’s singing, but the most at the unexpected times. 

“Whatcha looking for?” Hunk asks, his voice so very near Keith’s ear, another shiver ricocheting down his back. Keith swallows tightly, amazed Hunk can still make him feel this electrified, like an open circuit, after all this time, especially from something so menial. 

He smiles, pretending to be casual as he puts himself back together, flipping through the stacks. “Nothing you’d like,” he says quietly, turning out of his reach where he anticipates Hunk resting a hand on his rear. He smirks when he sees through the corner of his eye said hand hovering aimlessly in the air between them. Hunk raises a brow, seeming to accept this unspoken turn, and his eyes light up into a shimmering espresso hue, curiosity hidden through the beams as a grin forms on his face. 

“Really. Another one of your 80s jams, I take it?” he asks, following shortly behind Keith as he sidesteps down the alphabetized line. 

“What are you getting?” Keith asks instead, picking up a record to peer at it’s strange cover, looking at Hunk sideways. Hunk’s not even looking at the records anymore.

“Grizzly Bear,” Hunk answers and holds up the record. “Newest album. Lowkey rock, indie, modern tunes,” he says in a teasing voice, holding the record by his side and his laughter warms the core of Keith. 

“They are good,” Keith agrees, turning to look at Hunk over his shoulder, sure that his eyes are darker, deeper, and he appreciates the way Hunk keeps looking at him. In a glance and language between them, he says, “We’ll have to listen to it when we get home.” 

Hunk’s eyes seem to grow warmer, knowing implicitly just _how much_ they’ll ‘listen to it.’ “Sounds good to me,” he responds in that same lowered voice, silently agreeing to the unspoken suggestion, reaching out and thumbing his chin affectionately before sliding his hand across his leather jacket. 

Keith and Hunk browse for a while, showing the other crazy album covers, and they find each other’s other favorite bands, sifting through the bins of buttons and patches and bumper stickers. Keith finds a patch Hunk ogled for his jean jacket, holding it secretively in his palm to get him as a part of his Christmas present even though it’s nearly a whole month early. 

He knows where to find the record he was looking for, but looking up toward the front, he sees Matt busy reading his sci-fi novels, so he decides to bide his time. Behind one of the spinning towers full of jingling keychains and knick-knacks, Keith slips his hand around the back of Hunk’s neck and he bends wordlessly to kiss Keith, almost just as eager as he was. Hunk kisses him in exactly the way he likes, searchingly and tenderly, and Keith bumps into the tower accidentally as he pulls Hunk closer to him. Hunk laughs through the kiss, reaching out to try and stop all the jingling but he keeps kissing him, his other hand wrapping around Keith’s hip.

“Babe,” Hunk says suddenly, a hint of humor behind his voice. He takes something off the tower hook next to Keith’s head, and they’re those horrible slated sunglasses in a bright neon green, slipping them onto his face, the tag dangling down his cheek. “Okay, keep kissing me.” 

Keith releases a bout of giggles, one hand still on his neck and the other holding his coat, that familiar warmth vibrating at his boyfriend’s antics. “You look like such a bro, though,” he says, finding it hard to completely disapprove when he _could_ just kiss him and close his eyes. 

“I know, where’s the banger at?” Hunk says and Keith rolls his eyes and pops his collar to complete the look, much to his delight. “I can’t even see you. Why do people wear these?” He scoffs and pulls the glasses off his face like they personally offended him in their complete uselessness. Keith is the one who laughs through the kiss as Hunk wraps his arms around his back and turns him away from the spinning tower, nearly lifting his feet off the floor. 

Not like he anticipated, Hunk buys the record once he finds it, sneakily taking it from Keith’s hand when he wasn’t paying attention and slipping it under his in front of the counter. Keith only realizes after he puts Hunk’s patch on the counter looking for his record and Matt just smiles and shrugs, giving him a 100% discount. Then when he starts to protest, Hunk takes his hand and leads him toward the front door, and he weakly reprimands Hunk’s conniving purchasing tactics as he waves Matt goodbye and follows him back out into the chill. 

They walk together toward the comic and game shop a little ways down the block, hand in hand, Hunk wanting to find one of those complicated world-building card games for his niece for Christmas. They spend a while there, too, Hunk debating several games before an employee helps him to find one she might like and one he knows she doesn’t have already, Keith flipping through the comic sections and running his fingers over the plastic covers. 

They wander through the nearby bookstore, Keith buying a novel he thinks Shiro might like, and Hunk makes a suspicious purchase, adamantly not telling Keith about it. He relents as Hunk tucks it into his inner coat pocket though he can’t deny the niggling curiosity. Hunk only grins and takes his hand again. 

By then, it’s nearing dinner time, so they meander down to one of the bars to eat. It’s kind of a dive, but Hunk swears by their burgers and pizza regardless the time of day or year, and it’s a place they’ve been to for late night drinking with their friends, playing pool and darts, and a cheap place for specials the other college kids who stop in on the weekends frequent. Now, though, it’s not that busy on a Wednesday night, and they slip right into a booth. 

They order the same burger from the waitress, Hunk getting a stout and Keith a lager to drink, and they intertwine their ankles underneath the table. Keith asks Hunk about his work and he tells him enthusiastically, one of the luckier ones in the job world to have one he thoroughly enjoys, though there’s some stresses and aggravations dealing with certain tasks and government employees that he shares, Keith listening intently with his chin in his palm. Hunk asks the same of Keith once he finishes explaining the intricacies of his firm’s gossip, and Keith raves about customers and Lance’s drama, the two of them further speculating about him and Allura, with Hunk’s corroborating evidence, until their food arrives. 

Halfway through, Hunk swallows his bite and washes it down with the dregs of his stout, his eyes sparkling. “Hey, can this be a date?” he asks with Keith’s favorite casualness, Hunk’s shoe stroking over his jeans on his calf. 

Hunk certainly has his romantic moments, the dates he’s taken Keith on have rivaled rom-com tropes; flowers, boom-boxes, amusement parks and walks by the lake, but like Keith, sometimes he doesn’t do all that. Just simple dates. Take out, video games, movies. Keith loves all of them, especially the unplanned ones. 

“Sure,” Keith replies in the same manner through his food, and Hunk chuckles, cute and unabashed. Keith’s heart pushes against his ribs, unable to take his eyes off him as he finishes chewing, his heart doing cartwheels. 

Keith argues with Hunk about letting him cover the bill this time but Hunk practically throws his card at the waitress and pushes her elsewhere, the poor woman nervously looking at them as she goes, and Keith just shakes his head. He can’t deny the flutter it gives his full stomach, his mind bending about Hunk so easily just… taking care of him. Hunk always insists Keith deserves it, like he does now as he looks at him pointedly, but Keith is still grappling about the whole idea. He supposes he always will. 

“Hunk, you gotta let me buy dinner sometimes,” Keith says, taking Hunk’s hand across the table and squeezing it, having said it about a hundred times. He has bought them dinner before, but only after Hunk agreed beforehand. 

Hunk’s eyes burrow into his, softly smiling and he squeezes his hand back. “I know. But I asked if this was a date and you agreed, so. It’s on me.” 

“It’s always on you,” Keith retorts, struggling to keep his smile down. His eyes give him away, just how much he enjoys it. 

“I’ve got big arms, I can take it,” Hunk replies sardonically and shrugs, and Keith laughs for about the twentieth time tonight. Hunk’s always doing that to him, it seems, like he’s filling a laugh quota. When he opens his eyes, he sees Hunk already looking back at him with his eyes so full and bright with affection and fondness, it nearly makes Keith shrink away, but he’s learned to bask in those looks, numerous and bountiful as they are. It just makes him look forward to getting home--to Hunk’s house. 

(Once the waitress comes back and Hunk signs off and tips her plenty, Keith slips a twenty into Hunk’s coat pocket when he isn’t paying attention. Just to be a shit.) 

Keith’s still swimming in a glow when Hunk starts up the car, shivers glittering across his skin every time the engine rumbles and shudders, and he finds he keeps looking over the dashboard to his boyfriend. Hunk takes the longer way home just to get on the freeway, showcasing his effortless skill in shifting the gears, pressing the clutch the exact time he needs to, adjusting the stick without looking at it, his left hand on the wheel comfortably. Keith smiles to himself, watching Hunk nod his head to the music on the radio, his fringe of bangs coming loose from behind his ear, and damn, when did his sideburns look so nice? His eyes trace over the line of his jaw, his neck, his handsome profile, just how at ease he is driving, knowing exactly what he looks like when he isn’t. It feels like he’s looking at him for the first time, in bewilderment and fascination and admiration--in all sorts of big words. He can’t quite pick which one. 

But, he can brush his fingers along the inside of his wrist where it rests over the stick shift, revel in the softness of his skin, the realness and presence of him, only to weave his arm underneath Hunk’s and rest his hand on his thigh. Hunk glances over at him and winks, ‘ooh’-ing when a good song comes on on the radio, and looks back to the road in front of him, driving at a steady sixty-five. Keith feels an unbidden warmth rise up his neck from underneath his layers when an idea hits him. One he’s always wanted to do, but Hunk never let him. Maybe… 

“What’re you looking at, chocolate dipped pretzel?” Hunk asks. It nearly startles Keith, who was so deep in his own musings. 

Those goofy pet names of his. As ridiculous as they are, the intention behind them still make Keith’s heart skip. He smirks, though, having a perfect inlet. “Just my gorgeous boyfriend,” he says, tilting his head to the side, gently squeezing the hand on his thigh. It’s remarkably simple compared to the poems Hunk has spoken to him, not even the best Keith can come up with, but the small compliment has Hunk blushing. He _is_ too gorgeous for his own good. 

Hunk swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and the corner of his mouth curls up. “Oh?” 

“Mhm,” Keith says, and slides his hand along the soft inner part of Hunk’s thigh over his jeans, pressing up against the console. “Thinking about how hard he’s gonna rail me later. Might not even make it to the bedroom.” 

Hunk’s lips part a little, looking over at Keith for a few considering beats, his eyes flicking over his face, before he looks forward again. Keith can see the gears turning in his head as his hand creeps toward his zipper, see the tense lines of his shoulders, and he waits, his fingers pausing. 

“Keith, I’m driving,” Hunk says, his voice already deep though it wavers. 

“I know. And you’re doing really well,” Keith says, pressing his fingers down, his shoulder pulling on the seatbelt as he leans closer. 

“I’m not pulling over on the freeway…,” Hunk says, but he’s leaning back into the seat, steadily relaxing and lifting his closest arm, and with that, Keith gets the ‘okay’ to press his fingers where he wants to, rub his palm over the soft shape of him. His head spins with excitement, that Hunk is actually letting him do this. 

“You don’t have to. Just keep driving… you look so good doing it,” Keith says huskily before unbuckling his seatbelt. “Look so good, Hunk…,” he reiterates under his breath, nearly purring, heart hammering in his chest. “Let me take care of you this time, just before we get home.” 

Hunk still looks uncertain when he glances up at him, but his eyes are hard-set and clearly interested by the way he pushes his hips forward so Keith can get to his button. Keith rearranges himself so he lays across the console underneath Hunk’s arm so he can still use the stick shift, immediately pressing kisses to the bulge between his legs, unzipping his fly and sliding his hand inside. 

“Keith, holy shit,” Hunk breathes, a tinge of awe behind his words. “Holy shit…” It sounds like he might like this more than he thought he would and that has Keith inwardly grinning, feeling Hunk harden beneath his hand and mouth. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for months…,” he hums as he strokes Hunk’s cock, urging him to hardness, digging his nails in through his jeans over his legs to create more sensation to work him up faster. “And you… driving this fuckin’ car… gets me all hot and bothered… and today…,” he groans to finish his point, kissing along the length of him he can reach with the little room he has. 

“Oh my god, Keith…,” Hunk sighs, and above him, Keith can hear a swishing of fabric like he just looked down at him, head between his legs right in front of the steering wheel. Hunk has the thought to push his seat back a click to give him some more space, and that sweet gesture has Keith grinning in full. 

“Y’like this?” he asks with some brashness, his hand squeezing him, delighted when Hunk groans low in his throat. 

“I do,” Hunk replies tightly. “Don’t know how I’m gonna drive with you sucking me like you do, though…” 

“Just concentrate, I know you can,” Keith says, rubbing his hand over his thigh comfortingly, then pulls Hunk’s cock out through the slit in his boxer briefs. 

Hunk’s still half soft when he puts him in his mouth, a considerable size even then, but he hardens fast, especially with the lack of finesse Keith uses, sucking sloppily and stroking jerkily. His head spins, his own erection making itself known against his jeans and pressing into the seat, his blood ignited because he’s truly wanted this for ages, even before knowing Hunk. Something about the raunchiness, the danger, he supposes. It’s stupid, sucking cock on a freeway, but it’s _hot_. And listening to the engine, the rumble through the frame, listening to Hunk moan softly above him and his fingers gripping the leather of the steering wheel as he draws him further into his mouth until he presses against the back of his throat, it’s totally worth it. 

“Fuck, you look so good,” Hunk mutters, then laughs a little airily like he couldn’t believe it. “Of course you’d want to do this, Keith.” 

He hums an affirmative around the weight of his cock on his tongue, circling his lips tight around him and squeezing his hand around the length he can’t reach. It’s a bit awkward, doing this sideways and with so little space to do what he wants, but he makes do, and does it well. Spit dribbles over his fingers, he swirls his tongue around the head of him, grips and strokes him, until Hunk is panting, sliding forward on the seat in an imitation of a thrust, nudging himself further into Keith’s mouth. 

Hunk’s arm shudders a little where it rests over Keith’s back, his cock throbbing in that familiar way that means he’s going to come soon. “Keith, babe, fuck, I’m gonna… I’m gonna--OH SHIT!” 

Instead of what he’s expecting, the car jerks abruptly to the left, throwing Keith back into his seat and against the door in a heap, Hunk speeding up to avoid the car attempting to merge into the lane in front of him. Keith is panting wide-eyed in shock as Hunk hollers nonsense, screaming down the freeway until the danger has passed, shifting the gear down until he’s going the minimum speed limit in the far right lane. The change in speed nearly has Keith slipping out of his seat, his hand flying out to grip the dashboard, shaky from the sudden shock to his nerves.

“Hunk! What happened? I’m so sorry, holy fuck, I’m so sorry!” Keith jumps forward, seeing the way Hunk’s chest is rising and falling, his face pale and sweating and hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. He touches his arm and shoulder hesitantly, feeling him trembling underneath his coat. His stomach goes sour, just feeling how frightened Hunk is, how he looks. “I’m so sor--” 

“Oh my god! Oh my god, holy--oh my god, that was too close, that was so fucking close, holy shit, I can’t believe--what an asshole! He didn’t even use his signal!” Hunk yells, adrenaline high, and he takes a few breaths to slow down his rapidly beating heart. “I knew that was a bad idea. I knew it. I knew something would happen and I wouldn’t pay attention in time and we would crash and die in flames--I was even looking! Super hard! And—” 

Hunk cuts himself off and pushes a hand through his hair, letting out a rush of air before double-taking over at Keith, worry and concern saturating his face, putting a hand on his knee like he’s checking for injury. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry, I had to zip over otherwise the car would hit us, are you hurt?”

Keith stares at him open-mouthed for a few moments, the only light coming from the shifting lamp posts on the side of the freeway and the dashboard glow. Only belatedly does he realize his own hands are shaking, pushing away his messy bangs from his face to catch his breath. “Am _I_ okay? Are _you_? Are you okay? Are you gonna be sick? I’m so sorry, Hunk, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have--shouldn’t have forced you--” 

“Wha-- _forced_ me? No, Keith, you didn’t--I knew it was stupid, but I wanted to! I swear! I just--” Hunk lets out another heavy exhale, moving his hand to grab Keith’s shoulder and push him down correctly into the seat. “I thought I could handle it. Evidently not. Never doing that again for as long as I live,” he says almost sadly, offering a smile though the humor isn’t there. “Oh my god…,” he says under his breath, giving one last long steadying exhale, and tucks himself back into his pants one-handedly and a little clumsily. 

There’s a long tense silence as Keith buckles himself back in, sitting stiffly in his seat and watching the street lamps pass out the windshield. His stomach still feels like it’s in knots, his throat tight, his hands curling into fists in between his knees. “I’m sorry, Hunk… it was a bad idea…,” he says softly, throat hoarse and gritty as guilt hangs over him like a shadow, keeping his gaze outside. “I knew it was dangerous, but… I pushed you.” 

“Hey,” Hunk says gently, reaching in between Keith’s knees to pull out his hand, uncurl his fist and weave their fingers together, holding it over the center console, all with barely looking. He holds tight as if he’s trying to keep his hand steady with Keith’s palm. “Everything’s okay, Keith. It was a bad idea, but everything’s fine, we’re still alive and the car’s okay! It was fun and then it wasn’t. But... I _can_ think of other bad ideas that have gone worse. Way worse. Like that one time you tried doing a backflip and broke your wrist.” 

Keith smirks at the memory but it quickly fades, wondering how in the hell Hunk is talking to him so coherently right now when they almost got sideswiped mid blow job, on the freeway while Hunk was driving in his pristine Shelby model. If it was him, Keith would be livid with himself, probably at Hunk too if he was honest, but he supposes that’s where they differ. When he looks over he’s almost relieved to see that Hunk still appears a little frazzled, eyes a bit wider than normal and hair all mussed. He’s definitely still freaking out but holding it in for Keith’s sake, and he appreciates the effort he’s giving him even though Keith tends to sulk in his own mistakes. He squeezes his hand back. 

“I know. I still feel shitty, though,” he mumbles, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, feeling slightly better. 

“Well… you can always make it up to me,” Hunk turns his head and give him a cheeky grin, wiggling his brows and narrowing his eyes lasciviously. Keith snorts and shakes his head. He definitely plans on it. 

“I’ll make it up to the Shelby first and then I’ll make it up to you,” he snarks sarcastically, lifting up Hunk’s hand to kiss the back of it. Hunk had started to protest but then cooed when Keith drops their hands. 

“I see how it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll should really listen to Grizzly Bear's newest album, its lit. All their stuff is lit.


	4. -2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk teases Keith, and Keith teases back... almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief talk about some people's sexual habits... lmao. You'll see what I mean.

After weeks of developing plans according to state code and parameters, deferring to Allura about his ideas and the increasingly complicated specifications she gets from the government branch about mitigating landslides in the mountains around them, Hunk is relieved and ecstatic to submit his final blueprints. It was nearing the end of the day so Allura said he could head home, and she looked just as alleviated as he does, though perhaps a little more weary. He thinks about making her favorite tea cookies to bring in on Monday for her on his way out, with his top-notch raspberry frosting, and he’s got that tin of earl grey sachets he hasn’t touched… 

The drive home is easy, and when he gets there he sees Keith’s hunk of junk on four wheels sitting in the driveway, covered in a dusting of snow but it doesn’t hide the ugliness within. It’s no secret Hunk hates Keith’s car just as much as Keith himself does, after having spent hours replacing spark fuses and coolant tubing and timer belts. Something new always crops up every few months. It’s a piece of crap, but Keith adamantly refuses to part with it, probably because he doesn’t want Hunk to buy one for him—which he _would_ , but not a brand spanking new one for Keith’s sake. He wouldn’t be able to look Hunk in the face for days without feeling guilty or thanking him every two seconds. Hunk would rather avoid that. 

He parks his car on the driveway even though there’s a whole garage to park in, but both he and Keith have projects inside that take up most of the space. Tinkering on engines counts as part of their couples hang out time; sometimes they talk and sometimes they don’t, but they help each other and share tools and laugh. Keith’s probably doing just that right now, Hunk thinks as he steps out of his SUV and goes to the front door; he’s been taking apart his motorcycle and cleaning the entire engine, replacing old parts and getting it tuned up all nice and shiny for the spring. 

Hunk drops his briefcase on the dining table covered in more papers and blueprints, loosening his tie before going to the door that leads out into the garage past the washing and drying machines, cracking the door with a mischievous smile on his face. Keith’s motorcycle is still 90% taken apart on a painting tarp, separated into a million little pieces, but Keith isn’t sitting in front of it on Hunk’s old longboard, pushing himself back and forth as he scrubs a tube. Hunk sees a smudge of colorful blue further into the garage and notices a distinct humming sound filtering through the static-y music playing on the portable speakers on the workbench. He cracks open the door wider and steps out into the heated garage, closing the door quietly behind him but not trying to be sneaky about it. The last time he surprised Keith while he was working in the garage he got a wrench to the dick. Bad times. 

The smudge of colorful blue is Keith donning Hunk’s jean jacket with the back covered in patches of all shapes and sorts and colors, the jacket old but well-loved by the both of them. Keith has rolled up the sleeves a little so his hands aren’t completely covered, elbows deep looking at the Shelby’s engine, humming along to the song playing and jerking his hip adorably as he tries wiggling around something.

Hunk laughs quietly, a few yards behind him by his own gutted up project, stuffing his hands in his pockets and watching him fondly, at the cute little quirks he does while working. Like how he’s always moving a foot, tilting his shoulders at angles to get a certain perspective like Pidge does when she’s playing video games, and Hunk can imagine he’s got smudges across his cheeks and nose from how often he touches his face for no reason other than it’s just out of habit. He can’t deny the flutter around his heart seeing Keith wearing his old jacket, though. He’s worn it on several occasions and each time it does the same thing, that little delightful curl of warmth that enjoys seeing Keith comfortable, happy and aloof, the feeling that Keith is his just as much as he is Keith’s. 

When Keith turns to grab a flashlight sitting on the fuse box, he sees Hunk and immediately smiles, Hunk’s musings put away. “Thought I heard you come in,” he says and clicks the flashlight on, leaning back over to peer inside. 

“Are you looking for something?” Hunk asks and comes up behind him now that his body will be safe from flying wrenches. He puts his hands on Keith’s shoulders and massages them briefly, peering over his head to whatever Keith was inspecting. 

“Not really, just lookin’,” Keith replies, going pliant under Hunk’s pressing fingers finding the knots between his neck and shoulders, his head tilting back a little. Hunk smiles and drops his hands, giving Keith’s rear a playful pat. 

“You know, people actually find cars that they love with their whole heart,” Hunk starts, amusement curling his lip as he leans his thigh against the front grates, and Keith looks over at him with a curious look. Hunk has to stop himself from laughing right then, putting on a serious expression. “And they actually marry them. There’s laws in some states that allow that. There’s people who marry plants and trees and stuff, too. I saw a story about one guy who actually wanted to have sex _with_ a car. Can you believe it? I think its called mechanophilia--” 

“Hunk, what the hell are you talking about?” Keith says through his stunned chuckling, his brows pinching as he peers at the carburetor, side-eyeing Hunk like he might just shove him. 

Hunk spews out a bout of giggles, taking a few gulps of breath to compose himself. “I’m saying you should look into the state’s laws. See what you can do--”

Keith actually does shove him then, making Hunk burst out into laughter when Keith keeps doing it even though Hunk is built like a wall of bricks. “Shut up! And why exactly were you reading this ‘story’, huh? Care to share?” Keith taunts, poking his soft ticklish sides to make Hunk jump and shove him back. “Who’s the engineer here, huh? Should I be worried about you wanting to fuck the fridge?”

“No, _I’m_ saying you love this car! I should be worried about _you_ wanting to fuck it,” he jibes, blocking Keith’s attempts to get to his waist. “You love it almost more than I do, babe,” he says with a crooked smile, unable to hide the fondness shining in his eyes. Keith and the car do look good together… the maroon and Keith’s whole vibe… 

Hunk reaches forward and finds the spots under Keith’s armpits, tugging him close and forcing tickles onto him but Keith wiggles impressively to tug his hands away. He relents and wraps his arms tight around Keith’s chest, pressing kisses on the side of his head. “Now’s probably a bad time to tell you that you look really cute, yeah?”

Keith barks out a laugh, breathing deep to catch his breath, lifting a hand to wrap around Hunk’s forearm and leaning back into his solid frame. “Doesn’t help your case any,” he smiles, turning his head to show him his unimpressed raised brow. Keith’s eyes are bright from the compliment, though, and Hunk doesn’t miss the subtle flick of his eyes toward his mouth. 

“My point still stands. About you looking cute. Not the car fucking,” Hunk grins before kissing his lips, the angle a little awkward but it works. Keith hums against his mouth, making it tingle. 

“You’re so weird, man,” Keith says quietly, his thumb finding the little bump of wrist bone on Hunk’s arm. 

Hunk laughs in agreement and pecks his cheek. “When’d you get here?” he asks before letting him go. 

“Few hours ago. Just passing time,” Keith answers and runs the back of his hand across his nose, and yup, just like Hunk thought, he’s got a few smudges of dust and grease across his cheek and one little spot on the tip of his nose. He reaches forward to scrub at it with his thumb and Keith scoffs grossly like a child getting cleaned by his mother’s spit. “Ugh, Hunk…,” he complains but the dusting of pink across his cheekbones says otherwise. It makes Hunk grin. 

“Come on, babe, why you gotta be so cute all the time…,” Hunk says with a playful whine, tilting his head back and tapping against the top of the propped up car hood, watching Keith screw back the covers to some of the parts he had meddled with. 

“I’m not cute. I’m gross,” Keith says staunchly, his mouth curling up at the corner before blowing up a fart noise from his lips which makes Hunk giggle. 

“The cutest grossest boyfriend I’ve ever had in my life. Wearing my coat with the sweetest ass known to man, ooh!” he wolf whistles just because he can and he likes to see Keith roll his eyes like he does. Keith mumbles something or other about ‘ridiculous engineering boyfriends’ under his breath, turning away and bending down to shuffle in a drawer in the toolbox tower. “Alright, now you’re just showing off, hot stuff. Look at that ass for _days_. Those thighs… that pose… man, I’ve seen that in several center-spreads! Just right on the money…”

Hunk commentates much to Keith’s flustered disgruntlement, getting more and more ridiculous as Keith puts the engine parts together, trying to get him to stop with fake reprimanding looks but Hunk just says something else to make his throat close up. He’s flattered and more than a little turned on by some of Hunk’s comments, but he does his damndest not to show him that, opting to gently whap his thigh with a wrench. 

“What are you getting at, big guy?” Keith interrupts Hunk’s singing about his ‘shapely chest’, taking the stand that holds the Shelby’s hood up and unhooking it, Hunk moving so Keith can slam the hood down and lock it. He tosses the wrench behind him into the tool drawer and gives Hunk a narrowed half-hooded gaze, stopping his boyfriend dead in his tracks. Hunk’s eyes widen marginally and his cheeks flush, his hands dropping a little where he had his palms pressed together. 

“Are you just going to tease me about my ass and hips without doing anything about it? Am I going to have to do something myself?” Keith’s voice is low, almost predatory, putting a hand on the hood and leaning forward, urging Hunk back so his palm slams on the maroon metal to hold himself up. He leans in close, their noses just brushing together. “Because… I’m getting really irritated… with all this big talk of yours…” 

“O-oh… I didn’t mean…,” Hunk gulps audibly, his eyes flicking to Keith’s mouth. “I was gonna--” 

“Nope. _I’m_ going to show you what exactly I admire about you. Tell you myself, upfront, real-time,” he places his other hand on Hunk’s hip, hand curving over the softness that’s pushed out from his trousers and belt, his shirt still tucked in but Keith makes quick work pulling it out. Hunk damn near yelps but it comes out in a surprised ‘oh!’ and it sends a red-hot lick of arousal straight to Keith’s dick. “You’ve been in this funny, silly mood since you got here, telling me weird stories. Little did you know... that I’ve been thinking about you, laid out on this car, half-clothed and panting just from me working you open.” 

It’s mostly a fabrication, he was thinking about murdering Hunk in kisses while he was singing tunes about him, but it’s almost the same thing. Hunk’s lips part and his eyes go hazy and dark with lust, his cheeks painted in such a lovely dark red, Keith doesn’t stop himself from grabbing Hunk’s hips and urging him forward just an inch, his fingers pressing into soft fat and cloth. Hunk lifts his chin for a kiss but Keith doesn’t give him one, not yet, dragging his fingers around to his belt buckle underneath the press of his belly and undoing it. 

“Since you started with my ass, let me tell you about yours,” he raises a brow as if daring Hunk to challenge him, but he doesn’t, only swallows and watches Keith’s face. With his belt loosened, Keith slides his hands down the back of his trousers over his boxers, pressing his fingers into the warm and supple, giving flesh, watching with rapt attention as Hunk bites his lip. “I can barely fit you in my hands. Thickest ass I’ve ever seen, round and firm and goes the perfect color when I bite it.” 

“Keith…,” Hunk breathes out, his chest swelling as he takes a deep breath. 

“And your thighs, so strong and huge wrapping around my head when I swallow you down. Your arms, too, you could bench press me if you wanted. I wouldn’t complain,” Keith smiles a little, dragging his hands over Hunk’s dress shirt over his back underneath his thin puffy coat. He licks his bottom lip. “Your hands wrap almost around my waist. I think… that’s really fucking hot.” 

Smirking a little smugly at that, Hunk puts a hand on Keith’s waist exactly like he said, the one palm enough to span his side, thumb coming around to the front and fingers just over his latissimus dorsi. “Do you?” he asks, his eyes taking on a mischievous sparkle. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith grits and takes Hunk’s wrist, holding it behind him on the car hood. “You don’t get to tease me this time, big guy.” 

“Will you kiss me at least? This is way hot, Keith, and I’m really into this serious look on your face right now,” Hunk asks with just a bit of pleading behind his voice, his breath ghosting over Keith’s mouth. 

He hums consideringly, arching a brow as he pulls back with Hunk letting out a small whine, bringing a thumb up to trace over the swell of his bottom lip, admiring the dark brownish rose color. “Your lips are the perfect shape for kissing, that’s true. And I do love to kiss you. But also wrapped around my dick, sucking hard and messy… you’re almost messier than I am,” he smirks, meets Hunk’s eyes, and lets his lip go, only to roll his hips forward, slotting their legs together so Keith can feel for himself just how hot Hunk thinks this is, grinding his thigh against him. “This turning you on?” 

“God, Keith, _yes_ , it is, like so much,” Hunk says airily, lifting the thigh Keith is straddling a little more to bring him closer, his eyes dropping shut for a moment as if to wrangle his words together. His brow is slightly furrowed in mild frustration with what Keith’s turned back on him, but he keeps his hands behind him on the hood. 

“Good, because I am too. Speaking of…,” Keith drops his hand to palm over Hunk’s bulge, pleased at the low groan he receives. “This is definitely one of my favorite features about you… I could wax poetic about your eyes or hair or skin, but now that you’ve got me going, I think I might take advantage of how hard you are already…,” He hums as he strokes over the shape of him underneath his hand. 

“Keith, _please_ ,” Hunk says on the cusp of a whine, his head tilting to the side as Keith squeezes him, and at that gorgeous look, that pretty noise, Keith’s will breaks a little. 

He pushes Hunk flat onto the hood of the car with a hand on is chest and lays over him, coming up to his tip toes on the garage floor, and kisses the breath from his lungs. He hungrily parts his lips with his own and dives his tongue between them, groaning as Hunk bucks up a little into his hand, now sliding underneath the zipper of his trousers to grasp at him over his boxers. Keith kisses him deep, directing their lips together in a delicious wet slide and sweet pops, exchanging heavy breath and small scrapes of teeth. 

“Fuck, Hunk, I want to fuck you right here, just like this,” Keith nearly growls as he moves his mouth to suckle a dark spot underneath the curve of Hunk’s jaw, somehow able to work open Hunk’s trousers and fit his hand inside better, still grasping his length and working his thumb over the hard shape of him through the thin fabric. 

“O-on the car? K-Keith! Oh, shit, babe, I-I don’t even care,” Hunk says with some amusement at first before he dissolves into breathy whimpers, putting the heel of his shoe on the front bumper so Keith can get at him better, and just as he’s about to slide his hand inside his boxers, the garage door to the inside bursts open. 

“Hey, Hunk, I brought some papers Allura forgot to give you last week, and--OH! Oh shit! Oh my god!” It’s Lance. Of course it’s Lance. 

Hunk and Keith both shout at once and Keith bolts upright though he has the place of mind to shield where his hand was venturing, and Hunk’s arms fly up to cover his face, his legs kicking out in surprise. 

“What the _fuck_ , Lance!” Keith yells, giving their friend a dark look promising a swift punch, but Lance just bursts out into loud wheezing giggles, leaning against the doorframe, his hand over his mouth. “I swear to god if you don’t leave right now--” 

“Come on, guys! It’s freezing as fuck out here! What--what the hell… oh my god. Don’t mind me, I’m gonna just drop the papers off, grab a few cookies and head on out of here, okay? Have--have fun canoodling! On the car! You kinky bastards--” 

“Lance! Just shut up!” Hunk wails underneath his arms, sitting up and pushing Keith away so he can zip himself up. Now that Keith isn’t occupied, he starts in a deadly strut toward Lance. 

“You guys are totally kinky! Who would’ve thought? Keith, watch yourself, man, I was just stopping by, I didn’t mean to interrupt your defilement of my best friend, okay? Keith!” Lance breaks out into more incredulous laughter tinged with a bit of fear before bolting inside the house, Keith quick on his tail to tackle him in the living room. “Don’t stab me with your hard on--ow!” 

Still in the garage, Hunk’s hands plaster to his face, dragging down his cheeks as he composes himself, his heart racing for an entirely different reason. Through the open door, he can hear Lance laughing and Keith still shouting at him in what is inevitably a noogie-punching match between the two of them. Getting interrupted by his best friend when he was just about to get it good fills him with embarrassment but frustration in equal measure, so he tugs on his coat straight and runs inside, uncaring to the half chub pressing at his trousers. 

“Let me at him, Keith!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading! One more chap to go before the real thing :>


	5. +1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time they actually do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this turned into a 4+1 instead of a 5+1, because the 5th attempt was just Not Happening, and I really wanted to have it finished in time for Christmas. So instead of losing the will and drive to not post it after the missed deadline, I just went ahead and skipped the 5th for the final and successful attempt to get it finished in a way that I wanted since I had this part already written. 
> 
> So here it is! :>

Something about sneaking off while his family was sleeping was inexplicably exciting. Even though they knew they were dating, in a long-term serious relationship no less, it felt kind of rebellious, like they were younger and brasher doing things they shouldn’t with his family around. Which, yeah, there’s still that small percentage that one of his aunts may come into the garage for a smoke at one in the morning, but screw it. They going to Hunk’s car, in the garage, and they’d better to leave them well enough alone. He didn’t care. 

Keith, though, contrasting to his usual nature, was a little cautious. Still fearing that his mom might pull his ear off or his older brother might punch him in the face, even after three years of knowing them and getting into drunken poker games. But, Hunk could see that pique of interest, that small thrill shining in his indigo eyes when Hunk took his hand with the suggestion, whispering it into his ear during the movie. It made his heart do cartwheels. 

“We should probably be quiet, though, just in case,” Hunk whispers to him outside the door that leads into the garage, his bigger hand nearly enveloping Keith’s. 

“Yeah, I won’t try and wake up the house,” he whispers back like it’s routine, a smile making his eyes crinkle on the edges. 

Hunk huffs a quiet laugh while patting his pockets to make sure he’s got everything before opening up the door. He thanks his past self for installing a heater for his mom’s garage years ago to make his tinkering easier in the winter, the concrete floors still cold but at least the air is bearable. 

Keith lets go of his hand and circles around to the passenger side of the Shelby like it’s out of habit and Hunk smiles internally--they might as well have both climbed in through one door. He doesn’t stop him, though, just unlocks the doors and climbs into the driver’s seat. He doesn’t turn on the car all the way to prevent themselves from untimely carbon monoxide poisoning, just the battery so he can plug in his phone. Keith, ever impatient, leans over the console and pulls him into a kiss while he’s looking for a playlist to start. 

“Keith,” Hunk giggles against his lips, looking sideways at his phone as Keith nibbles his lip, kisses the the corner of his mouth, his thumb scrolling for the perfect one. “Gotta set the mood, babe.” 

“Mood’s already set. We’re in the car,” Keith replies playfully, his fingers curling into Hunk’s shirt at the collar. 

“This’ll be, like, the zillionth time. Never tried it with good music, though,” Hunk says but he doesn’t fight him, just obliges him by giving him a few pecks on the mouth. 

“About damn time if you asked me,” he mumbles, raising his eyebrows and leaning back to pull off his scarf, leaving him in his black turtleneck and leggings. 

“Ah, there’s my impatient Keith,” Hunk teases, winking, and finally picks a playlist, a low harmonious tune with lilting acoustic and deep vocals and effects. Keith seems to forget his tease and smiles in approval before starting to climb into his lap, careful about hitting his head on the ceiling this time. 

“Knock your seat back,” Keith tells him, and Hunk does, sliding back a few inches. Then, he surprises him by keeping his back to him, putting his knees on the seat on either side of Hunk and sitting down right on his half chub, folding his arms over the steering wheel. “I wanna try with you fingering me this way. See how it works,” he explains in an almost innocent tone, brushing his bangs away from his forehead to look at Hunk over his shoulder. 

Hunk gapes for a second just to admire the lithe planes of Keith’s back, his pert ass pressing against him, the sweater he’s wearing rising a little above the waistband of his leggings to show the small of his back and his dimples there. The dim lighting the fluorescent lightbulbs in the garage and the minimal lights on the dashboard make him look enticing, beautiful and darkly alluring. Hunk’s heart tilts in his chest and presses against his ribs. His hands come up to hold his waist, nearly encompassing the width of him, and his fingers must be chilly when he inches them up the warm skin of his back by the way Keith hisses. 

“I’m always up for something new,” he says in a lowered voice, smirking at Keith when he rolls his hips forward, pressing his growing hardness against the swells of his backside. His smirk forms into a grin when he sees Keith’s eyes flutter closed, those cheekbones flushing just a tinge darker. 

“Gotta keep it exciting…,” Keith sighs, and his back arches at Hunk’s touch, his hands moving up his back over the sweater, kneading his fingers in just a little. Keith’s careful not to press his chest into the wheel so they don’t utterly annihilate their cover. 

Hunk drags his hands down his back again and curls his fingers underneath the waistband of his leggings to pull them down over the curve of his ass, and his cheeks instantly blush at what he sees--or, what he doesn’t see. “Exciting, indeed,” he says half in awe when Keith’s ass is bare to him, wearing nothing under the leggings. 

“I took off my underwear earlier during the movie,” Keith explains, sounding pleased with himself from Hunk’s reaction, his fingers tapping over his bicep. “After mostly everyone was asleep, of course. Knew something like this was gonna happen.” 

“That’s… that’s…,” Hunk’s not quite sure how to articulate just how sexy that is, his brain flatlining for a second as he lets himself palm the supple give of his ass, digging his fingers in, pushing the leggings down so the waistband sits right underneath where his thighs begin. Keith seems to understand what he means, however, if the low hum in his throat is anything to go by. 

Before he gets too carried away ogling him, Hunk digs out the travel-sized bottle of lube in his joggers’ pocket, getting his fingers a little slick. He accidentally drops a few dribbles onto his dick tenting his pants against Keith’s cheek but he doesn’t mourn the loss for long, his lube-free hand coming up to hold his hips still as he drags two fingers along the center crease of him over his hole, from right behind his sack to almost the small of his back. Keith’s cheek drops onto his forearms, pushing his ass out a twitch more. 

“Are you really gonna go slow?” Keith asks in mild frustrated disbelief, and Hunk can see the furrow of his brow from his profile. 

“Yeah, duh,” He replies with no small measure of snark and fondness, digging his fingers into the softness Keith has on his side, more than it was even a year ago, hard muscle still underneath. “Let me appreciate just how gorgeous you look right now.” 

“Hmph,” Keith replies, and Hunk doesn’t have to look to know how scarlet his cheeks must look, smiling to himself as he swirls his fingers around Keith’s entrance. 

After how long they’ve been together, Keith can easily take two of Hunk’s fingers at the start, his digits slipping past his rim as he relaxes. Hunk strokes him leisurely, pressing his fingers against his walls and scissoring just so, simply enjoying the way Keith seems to welcome him inside so eagerly, how he sighs and melts against the steering wheel. 

“Feel good?” Hunk asks after Keith doesn’t say anything, doesn’t goad him faster. He runs his hand up his spine, over his bare skin underneath the sweater, watching his half-covered profile for any signs. 

Keith nods and opens his eyes, just a touch on the glossed-over side. “Yeah… I like this song…,” he chuckles, and moves a hand to hold Hunk’s thigh, run his palm over it reassuringly. 

“Oh, yeah?” Hunk leans forward and kisses his shoulder, pumping his fingers in deeper. “Not exactly sexy stuff…”

Keith gasps when Hunk’s reach nudges that spot inside him, thighs quivering almost imperceptibly. “Still good… definitely… a mood setter…,” he says under his breath before a low groan rumbles in his chest. Hunk peppers kisses over his clothed shoulder until he gets to his neck, pushing his hair aside and kissing over what exposed skin he can on the back of it, bringing his free hand to tug down the bit of turtleneck. He drags his lips across the warmth of his neck, hearing closer now the small intakes of breath, seeing how Keith bites his lower lip as he keeps pumping his fingers deep, deep. 

“I’d make love to you to music all the time if I could, kitten,” Hunk mutters, a surge of devious lust swelling in him knowing how that sweet and small pet name works, but it’s his favorite one. Not often used. 

He hears the sharp inhale before he feels Keith rock back against his hand near instantaneously, tilting his head back a little to rest on Hunk’s shoulder. The hold on his thigh he uses to lift himself an inch, but the quick hand Hunk puts on his hip stops him from dropping down. 

“Still appreciating,” Hunk says huskily as an explanation, curling his fingers on the outstroke to smooth over that spot inside him. 

“Hunk… come on…,” Keith says on the edge of a sigh, probably meant to be complaining but even that doesn’t come through. 

Hunk’s cock is swollen in his joggers by now, hard and resting between Keith’s ass and his own thigh, throbbing and aching, but it’s almost secondary to the man on his lap. His boyfriend, his lover, kitten and peanut butter cup and the one who hung the moon in his sky. His chest seems to expand, heart pushing up against his throat, slowly winding his arm around Keith’s stomach where his cock rests untouched underneath his leggings. 

“I love you… but I want to hear you ask first…,” Hunk mumbles into his hair right behind his ear just as he wiggles his hand past the waistband to push them down further over his thighs. Keith’s gorgeous leaking cock springs free, and he instinctively reaches a hand down to grasp himself around the shaft but not more, much to Hunk’s delight. Still, he wonders if Keith is in a mouthy mood tonight or if he’s complacent, languid or playful or obedient. The song changes to a new one and Keith shifts his hips a little, slipping his ass along Hunk’s thighs and shuddering when he reaches a new angle. 

“More, Hunk… I’m ready,” Keith says through his steady breathing, giving his cock a few strokes, turning his head to rustle his forehead along Hunk’s shaggy bangs and sideburns in a kind of soft nuzzle. It’s enough of a request as any in Hunk’s book. 

“As you say, kitten,” Hunk smiles and slips a third finger in through his rim, stretching him wide, leaning back into the seat to watch his digits disappear past his tight rim. He keeps a hand on Keith’s hip to prevent him from rocking back onto his fingers as he’s prone to do, but Keith doesn’t fight him tonight. He just takes what Hunk has to give him, and that thought, that Keith is still so willing, so eager and trusting, makes his heart do funny things in his chest. 

“You look so good right now, Keith,” he says softly, stroking his hand up his spine over the sweater, thrusting his fingers. 

It’s always the praise that gets Keith the loudest, the kitten’s only the catalyst, and now isn’t much different. His little punches of moans are contained in the cabin of the car, loud to Hunk’s ears even if he isn’t belting out his pleasure like he knows he can, but it’s enough. “You look so pretty… and earlier, you were laughing with Theo, and your cheeks were rosy. You looked happy. I-I loved that… I want to see you like that all the time, kitten,” Hunk says, his heart rattling in his chest with the weight of his affection, remembering just how much watching Keith like that affected him, his voice heavy with it. 

“He… he was being stupid…,” Keith replies with an airy laugh, his fingers squeezing on Hunk’s thigh, his legs making noises on the leather seat as he puts his knees under himself. Hunk shakes his head even though he can’t see it. 

“He always is,” he responds, but he doesn’t want to talk about his brother. “You, though… I could look at you forever,” he giggles a little at himself, how silly that came out, slowly dragging his fingers in and out, gaze taking its time moving from his glossy black hair down his spine, his hips and waist, to his ass and where his hand rests. “Especially like this. I love all those little noises, kitten… kinda wanna take my time slipping inside you, just to drive you crazy.” 

“Hunk, come on,” Keith says in retort, his voice a little sharper, and looks over his shoulder at him with a pointed look. 

“Yeah, like that,” Hunk agrees with a smile, but slowly withdraws his fingers to give Keith a bit of slack, because he’s also getting impatient. He pulls himself out of his joggers and pushes them down his thighs a little, grasps himself and strokes some more lube onto his length, biting his lip. “Are you ready?” 

“Hunk…,” Keith sighs, lifting his ass in indication. “Been ready.” 

Hunk slips inside easily when he lines himself up, taking Keith’s hips in his hands to make sure he goes slowly, but Keith is on the same wavelength as him. He sinks down gradually, a low wispy sigh escaping his lips, one hand reaching out to grasp the top of the dashboard with white knuckles while the other is still bent over the steering wheel, and Hunk’s thumbs rub soothingly into the skin of his lower back. He watches Keith take him, then helps lift him up as he rolls his hips looking for the right angle, and it pushes a pleased groan from his chest. 

“Keith…,” he says, his boyfriend sinking down onto him again, his cock buried in his slick and tight warmth, and something about watching it so closely and feeling it at the same time does something to him. “You’re taking me so well, babe… you’re so good at this….”

“Feels so good… I can… feel every inch of you…,” Keith pants and his voice goes a little high-strung when he slides down again, tilting his head back to moan. Hunk must have hit that spot inside him. Those sounds… Keith swallows a whine when he lifts up with Hunk’s help, then drops himself a little faster. 

“Hey… you should turn around, give yourself more room,” Hunk suggests, digging his fingers into Keith’s hipbones. “I also want to see your face,” he adds, his cheeks blushing.

“Good… good idea,” Keith says, and lifts himself so Hunk slips out. He helps move Keith around, keeps him steady so he doesn’t slip off the seat when he pulls off his leggings. He kisses Keith’s elbow when he jams it on the window and winces, smiling up at him through his lashes. Keith lifts a hand and runs it over his forehead, pushing away his hair sweetly in one of the softest gestures he’s ever given Hunk, letting his knuckles brush the bend of his jaw and the stubble that’s grown there in the last few days. Hunks mouth goes dry but he smiles and turns his cheek into it, kissing the bumps and valleys of his knuckles.

“Here,” Hunk flicks the lever next to the door and it angles the back of the seat backwards, placing his hands on Keith’s thighs, drags them up to his hips. “Now you have lots of room to move how you want, babe.”

Keiths face crumples into a dopey smile, a hand moving to grasp his shoulder while the other reaches between his legs to wrap around Hunk. “You’re so sweet,” he says, just a bit of endearment behind his words. 

“I try,” Hunk replies, eyes damn near sparkling as Keith lines him up again. 

“I know. And you’re the best boyfriend in the world,” Keith murmurs as he sinks down onto him with ease, sliding down until he’s bottomed out, Hunk melting into the seat below him. “Almost don’t deserve you.”

Hunk’s protest dies on his tongue when Keith begins to move, placing his forearms on Hunk’s chest, his hands bent so delicately around his face, moving his hips in small swirls each time he slides down. He puts his back into it, arching and curving, going slow slow slow to drag it out until Hunk is gasping, his fingers kneading into Keith’s sides. He lifts his chin for a kiss and Keith grants him one, heavy and full, his fingers close to trembling where they stroke over his jaw. 

Keith moans quietly and airily against his lips, hot breath ghosting over his face and kiss-wet mouth, and Hunk slides his hands from his hips to his ass, gripping each cheek in hand and spreading him before letting go with a slight wobble. He helps guide Keith down, bucking his hips up so he reaches deeper and it punches out a loud whine, Keith arching against his stomach. 

“Fuck, Hunk… Hunk, please…,” Keith asks, though his hazy eyes tells Hunk he’s not quite sure what. Keith reaches out an arm to grip the head rest, coming up onto his palm a little to sit up, hovering over Hunk but still keeping his pace as he rides him. 

“What, baby? What more do you need?” Hunk asks, looking up at him, his voice deep and gritty, watching Keith’s head nearly bump the ceiling when he thrusts his hips up, but Keith slams a quick hand on the top to stop himself from doing so. 

“Just… just… oh, god,” Keith moans, ass meeting Hunk’s thighs in a soft slap, his free hand fisting in Hunk’s shirt. If Hunk cared right now, he’d notice that Keith’s cock was leaking precome all over his dark shirt, stringy and opaque and difficult to wash out and hide from his family, but--he didn’t care. His focus was entirely on Keith, how bitten and wet his lips looked as he moans and whimpers, the black turtleneck clinging tight to his body and making him look impossibly gorgeous, rucked up around his waist. His is hair messy and debauched in feathery clumps across his cheeks and forehead, the cold light casting shadows across his face and highlighting others. He was immaculate. 

“Look at you…,” Hunk hums, a weak smile curling at his mouth. “You’re so, so pretty, baby… I love you like this. Never seen anyone so beautiful,” he says quietly, voice full of his endearment and captivation. “Let me help you.” He wraps a loose fist around Keith’s cock, thumbing the wet head of him and prompting a loud shaking moan from him, his careful movements stuttering as Hunk strokes him with one hand and pushes him forward with the other, urging him to keep going. “I’ve got you, baby, take what you need…”

“Oh! Oh, H-Hunk! Mmm--ahh, oh, shit, yes,” Keith babbles as he finds his rhythm again, Hunk bucking up to meet him, and shudders wrack his body when he drops his hands to the back of the seat. “Hunk, Hunk, I’m gonna come--just a little more… please,” he says with tight breath, dropping his ass down with a loud slap of his thighs. 

With his hand gripping his ass, Hunk can easily pull him up just a few inches and thrust up into him in fast strokes right over his prostate, his own thighs tingling with impending release, his other hand stroking Keith’s length in time, his fingers sticky and slick. “Come on, come for me, kitten, I want to see you… that’s it…” 

He feels Keith clenching around him and his thighs quaking next to him before Keith comes with a strangled moan, spurting into Hunk’s fist but it dribbles between his knuckles and over his wrist. Hunk watches Keith’s brows knit together in his climax, his mouth parted and his face is completely overridden with pleasure and bliss, and just that is enough to make him follow him over the edge. His hips stutter as he climaxes hard but he thrusts up slowly, languidly as warmth trickles down his spine and makes his skin tingle, head tilting back as a stilted moan punches out of his chest. It feels like ages before he can open his eyes, belatedly noting his cum dripping down his cock and thighs where Keith is still stretched around him, but neither feel obliged to move. 

Keith, in fact, falls flat on his chest, panting for breath and weak, his sweaty forehead right underneath Hunk’s chin. Carefully he removes his hand from Keith’s ass to run up his back in slow gestures, fixing his bunched up sweater for him. Keith lifts his head and kisses him sluggishly but tenderly, and Hunk does the same, their lips swollen and lazy but it’s no less searing and deliciously intimate. 

After a good while, after Keith has run his fingers through his hair and traced all the features of his face, he mumbles against his lips with his eyes still closed, “I love you. You’re so good to me, Hunk.” 

This is Hunk’s favorite Keith. There’s silly Keith, annoyed Keith, confused Keith, and outraged Keith, upon countless other pages of a book that compiles him, but this sweet, vulnerable Keith he sees only so often that really makes Hunk wonder how he got here; what he had done right to deserve him. It had taken work, sure, but it still throws Hunk tumbling through stars and space to see it, to be the dock of Keith’s openness and trust. His eyes water before he knows it, pressing more kisses to his lips with just a tinge of desperation to them, palm pressing flat to his back to draw him closer. 

 

“That’s all I want for you. I love you, too,” he murmurs quietly back, his other clean hand brushing away his messy bangs, holding him gently. “So much, baby.”  
Keith kisses him back before drawing away with a small pop of their mouths, looking with half-hooded eyes into his face, softly smiling when he sees how Hunk’s eyes glisten.

“Did you know,” he starts, his finger catching a stray tear at the end of his brow, “that you are literally strong enough to hang the moon in my sky? Can you believe it?” 

“No,” Hunk replies, chuckling and sniffling, blinking to clear the rest of the tears away, “but I like to think I am.” 

“You are. You do it every day. And it means so much to me,” he whispers, and leans down to press small kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, and Hunk melts against him, wraps his arms around his back and buries his face into his shoulder. He breathes Keith in, revels in his comfort and just him, everything else fading off into the background. 

Keith, with his chin hooked over Hunks shoulder, huffs out a tired laugh. “Well, hey, big guy, we finally did it.” 

“Did what?” Hunk asks groggily, fingers stroking mindless patterns over Keith’s shoulder blade. 

Keith shifts and it reminds Hunk of the sticky wetness coating him and between Keith’s cheeks, having long slipped out while they were making out earlier, the cool air of the car making it all cold and a little uncomfortable. When he cracks his eyes open, though, he sees they’ve fogged the windows up, and it makes an amused smile curl at his mouth. 

“We finally banged in the car. Only took a few months,” Keith replies dryly but Hunk can feel his grin pressing against his neck. 

“Totally worth the wait,” Hunk hums. “Now, we just gotta sneak into the house and forego the shower since it’s, what,” he glances at the clock on the dashboard and groans, “nearly two in the morning. I’m not about to wake up Gran with our shirts all dirty like this.” 

Keith lets out a stream of giggles, obviously finding it hilarious. “No way, man, I’m not facing your Gran after this. I’d sooner jump out into the snow.” 

“I’ll jump out after you if she doesn’t pull my ear off first,” Hunk laughs along, and Keith hauls himself up with a groan, stretching his back, and Hunk’s cheeks flush for the umpteenth time. “Also, that turtleneck? Hot as hell on you. Wear it all the time. I’ll buy you ten. Twelve. I don’t even care,” he says with utter conviction, pulling the lever so the seat pops up after him. 

Keith’s brows raise into his hairline as he reaches for his leggings on the passenger seat, his lips pressed together in a goofy curling smirk. “How much don’t you care about this turtleneck?” 

“Not at all. I care _zero_ about the turtleneck. Except, like, I want to see you naked in it again,” he shrugs nonchalantly, opening the door so Keith can step outside and put his leggings on. He turns off the car, grabs his phone and Keith’s scarf before stepping out and closing the door quietly and fixing his joggers. 

“Well, if you don’t care about it, then I won’t wear it again,” Keith says with a sly look, and Hunk leans down and pecks his lips just for that. He gives his rear a playful pat to goad him to walk forward first. 

“Good, because it’s totally 80s and out of style for sexy tiny boyfriends, anyway, it’s not like you’re gonna have a closet full of them,” Hunk says, voice dripping with sarcasm, and follows Keith back into the house. They go back and forth until they’re situated on the pull out couch downstairs, Hunk having given up his room for his aunt and uncle. 

“Okay, so,” Keith lays out after Hunk had made him laugh hard enough to muffle it into the couch pillows. “You _hate_ this sweater. I _hate_ your suspenders--” he ticks off on his fingers. 

“Yup, and I _hate_ those stockings you got a few weeks ago. Good to know where we stand,” Hunk chuckles quietly as Keith holds up three fingers to his face, dimly lit from the outlet nightlight across the room. Turning on his side so they’re face to face, Hunk’s hand is warm over his exposed hip from his sleeping t-shirt underneath the blanket, just watching his face as they fall quiet. 

“What?” Keith asks, getting sleepier by the minute, his arm slung over Hunk’s waist, their ankles slotted together. He feels warm down to his core just looking back at Hunk, knowing that those looks are just for him. 

“Nothing, just lookin’,” Hunk says in a whisper. “Gonna be alright tomorrow?” he asks. 

Most of his extended family is coming tomorrow for Christmas lunch, after Hunk’s family wakes up in a handful of hours to open presents in a mess of wrapping paper and gifts, and Keith knows it’ll be a long day of crazy nephews and nieces and cousins, lots of talking and interaction. But, he feels comforted knowing that Hunk knows and cares, that he’ll try to do anything for him if it isn’t alright. But, Keith loves his family and they’re all wonderful and kind just like Hunk, so he knows it’ll be alright. 

“Yeah. I’m actually excited,” Keith says, moving his hand from underneath the blanket to brush away a clump of Hunk’s bangs from getting into his eyes. 

“Me too,” Hunk replies, a slow smile pulling at his lips, and he leans forward to kiss the tip of Keith’s nose. He wraps his arms around Keith and presses his face into his neck, letting out a heavy sigh as he settles in for sleep. “Thanks for coming, babe. Everyone loves you.” 

Keith’s heart does a funny little spin at that, ducking his nose down and loosely circling his arms around Hunk’s shoulders, stroking over his hair sleepily. “Darlene would have claimed I was murdered otherwise. And your nephew, the one with the freckles and obsessed with Star Wars--”

“Grant.” 

“Yeah, he might’ve cried. I can’t do that to them. They’re your family, and I want to be here,” Keith smiles, meaning every word of it, and feels Hunk press his lips to his neck, his large hands splaying across the expanse of his back. 

“I’m literally in love with you enough as it is, stop sayin’ stuff like that, man,” Hunk says groggily, pressing more lazy kisses to his skin. He could probably feel the faint chuckling in his throat that Keith responds with, kissing the top of his head softly as his eyes get heavy. 

It was pretty alright. 

 

\-------

 

After unloading the Shelby and throwing their travel suitcases on the bed, Hunk and Keith crash onto the couch at Hunk’s townhouse in a heap, both with heavy sighs. Hunk wraps his arm around Keith’s shoulders and they sit and listen to the silence, so loud yet calming after four days of nonstop chatter and activity and energy, just for awhile. Hunk breaks the solitude by rubbing Keith’s bicep, turning his face to smile down at him. 

“So,” he starts, fondness and muted excitement already leaking into his words. 

“So,” Keith tilts his head, raising a curious brow. 

“Your Christmas isn’t done yet,” Hunk says matter-of-factly. “I have one last thing to give you.”

“What?” Keith says a little breathlessly, a little confused, narrowing his eyes skeptically. “You mean those Doc Martens aren’t all? Jesus Christ, Hunk…” 

“Nah,” he says, leaning sideways to dig into his pocket. “I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, that’s why I only got you the boots. It just feels right. It matches your whole,” he gestures vaguely to Keith’s entirety on the couch, “and you love it, so. Here.”

Hunk hands Keith the keys to the Shelby, complete with a little sprinkled donut keychain and a mini Swiss army knife. 

Seconds pass before Keith damn near screams into the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I apologize for not having the 5th part done, but I wanted to give you guys something that's finished instead of never doing so (rip WIP mountain). Thank you so so sooooo much for sticking around and all your comments and kudos, it really means a lot to me! 
> 
> Happy Holidays!! xoxxo

**Author's Note:**

> Aaand they try it several more times. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave some comments and kudos, it really helps assure me (and other authors) that our work is read and liked for the effort we put into it! And my dudes... I definitely put effort into it c: Thanks so much!
> 
> Find me at my NSFW blog at  midnightpeachv , or my regular Voltron sideblog  space-peachx . My inbox is always open! :>


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